Laterality
by Kettobase
Summary: "Why," she wondered, "was I given a second chance in this world, in this family, in this particular time, if not to change the status quo?" Thinking that was all well and good—however, enacting it was a completely different, and extremely difficult, matter. Semi-SI OC Rebirth fic.
1. Prologue: A New Way, Second Chance

**LATERALITY**

_I shut up the scream I left behind, and I don't have the courage to open the box. _

_I want to cling to our tender relationship, that at this rate will vanish into thin air._

—Laterality, Yanagi Nagi

* * *

_What do you wish for?_

Death was not glamorous. It was not tragic, nor was it the grand, dramatic moment Hollywood imagined. It was unfairly abrupt and immediate.

There was no time to think. No time to repent.

It wasn't like falling asleep. It wasn't like closing your eyes.

It wasn't even like the curtain falling at the end of a scene.

Death came like the crackling finale of a burnt-out light bulb, or the snuffing of a flame.

And then there was nothing.

_If I had a wish?_

_I want to do it again._

_I want to get it right._

* * *

There were two sides to everything. Heads, tails; life, death. Left, right; past, future.

Jenn could recall that, in her past life, many believed that death was a gateway to the next great adventure. Another _life._

_Oh_, if she could only see their faces when she told them they were _right._

The first time she became aware that her soul was not traversing the dark expanse of purgatory, or even possibly hell, where horrific cries of anguish surrounded her and claustrophobic walls squeezed her breathless, was the moment she opened her eyes.

It was bright—to a painful degree that made her flinch. The cries, the screams, continued, and large hands—hands of _giants_—passed her along, rushed her away, until she came to rest against a solid warmth. She could feel a thrumming heartbeat through the warm wall. Someone was holding her. Carrying her.

Nothing was clear. When she tried to get a feel for her environment, all she could see were blurry light streams dancing by and tan smudges like dabs of paint against a canvas—faces, she was certain.

There was the tang of blood. There was the familiar, unpleasant sterile stench of a hospital.

She was becoming aware of small, stubby limbs; the tiny digits stretching, curling around the blankets that swaddled her. The everything-too-small that corresponded to what she once was.

There was the familiarity of life.

This was the other side.

_This was her rebirth._

* * *

The world that resembled an impressionistic oil painting came slowly, slowly into focus. Blotchy faces gained detail; the setting was defined.

Jenn—no. _That_ was no longer her name, she concluded. Not in this life. In this life, she was only a girl.

The Girl came to realize that she spent most of her new, merely days-old life within the confines of a pink-blanketed perimeter that was no doubt still within the hospital—the stark traces of sterile disinfectant were still present.

Several faces had come and gone, lingered over her, confirmed her well-being, fed her, changed her…It was a bit humiliating to be so dependent, but it wasn't as if she could do it all herself. Not anymore.

These faces were the faces of kind, though anonymous, nurses—it worried her. Not once had she seen the expected, overjoyed visages of her "parents." Not once had she felt that familiar presence of "Mother." Had she been declined? Set up for adoption? Or, perhaps, were the parents no longer alive?

Mothers did pass away during childbirth, at times. As for fathers…perhaps she had been secretly conceived. Perhaps he didn't know of her existence. It wasn't an uncommon scenario.

The Girl did not know.

However, one day, that unmasked, ecstatic face she'd been hoping for finally came to meet her. It was a woman—Mother? No. _Not _Mother. She felt different. Smelled different. The Girl did not know this woman, and so she cried.

"Is she alright?" The woman—Not-Mother, queried in alarm as her eyebrows furrowed.

At the sound of the voice, The Girl's crying ceased. It was a familiar language—not her native tongue, not even of the same dialect of the second language that she was accustomed to, but it was a string she was able to grasp. A piece of the puzzle that was her new life.

It was Japanese.

"Is she alright?" was simply an approximation of what she could understand, guided along by the nonverbal tics the speakers displayed.

The Girl watched the woman's expression carefully, until it left her view and turned towards the nurse.

The nurse glanced over the edge of the bassinet and her eyes were wide with wonder. "This is the first time she's cried since her birth. She's a quiet one. I'm surprised."

"I see." Not-Mother's face returned to the child's view. Her eyebrows were still furrowed and a small smile graced her face, but her tone was nervous. The Girl noted that Not-Mother couldn't have been any older than herself—her _past _self. Possibly even younger.

"Please take care of her. If you need any help, or have any questions, feel free to consult us." The nurse reached down and gently cradled the girl-child within her arms, raising her from the bassinet and arranging her swaddle before nodding towards the other woman.

"R-right, of course. Thank you." Not-Mother took the small child from the nurse's arms—a little clumsily, excessively carefully, and gently set the crook of her arm beneath the young girl's neck. The Girl was glad that at least the woman was aware of how to properly hold a newborn. Again, it was slightly humiliating, but there was also a certain, primal comfort to being held so close to another person's warmth—safe, and guarded by another when she herself couldn't yet protect herself.

Yes, it was something she could vaguely recall from within the deep confines of her past, when she had been in this very same state some twenty-three years before. Childhood memories were tangled and ambiguous vestiges caught in between the realm of make-believe and did-I-maybe-dream-this, but the feelings that remained could never be mistaken.

The steady rhythm of being held by Not-Mother as she walked soon lulled The Girl into dreamland.

Though, before she departed, she distinctly heard Not-Mother speak the words that changed her life and defined her from that point onwards: "You're a brave girl, Namie."

* * *

Namie.

Not Jenn, not The Girl, but Namie. Her new identity.

From the small bits and flashes of information she'd received, Namie gathered that she'd been reborn into an Asian culture in which the language was very similar to Japanese. The architecture was also considerably Japonica, though in a somewhat old world sense. The world she was in now was a far cry from being as advanced as the world she'd known before.

The woman, Not-Mother, took care of her much in the sense of a nanny. She hadn't yet learned her name, but she was a constant in her life. A stabilizing pillar of support. As of the moment she picked her up from the hospital, Namie's world revolved around her.

Other than Not-Mother, a young blond child had occasionally entered into that small, closed world. Unrelated to Not-Mother, as she was far too young to have a child that age.

Immediately, Namie had felt a connection to the child—boy, or girl, she couldn't be certain. The child was at that age where appearance and voice could still be ambiguous, especially to her newly developed senses. Regardless of gender, she was certain this child was her older sibling.

When the child gazed over her crib, they did so in open wonderment. A mild curiosity that could only be sated by seeing her tiny form.

The first time their eyes met, a tender grin spread across the child's face. Namie found that her own mouth made an attempt to mirror the expression. Unable to properly execute the action, she instead cooed out loudly. The child was taken aback by the sudden cry, but when they were certain it wasn't the start of an oncoming fit and merely a jubilated shriek, their grin only grew wider. They extended their hand towards her, carefully, and Namie immediately latched onto their index finger with the entirety of her small hand like it was a lifeline.

Even if her parents were no longer around, she would never be alone. She _wasn't_ alone. This blond child was her blood, as she was theirs.

She hadn't valued her older sibling nearly enough in the past.

This time, she knew she would.

* * *

By the time Namie regained control of her motor functions and began practicing her walking motions—skipping past the crawling stage, because only God knew how much she wanted to grow up and properly take care of herself again without having to subjugate herself to the brunt of the humiliating childcare routine—she also gained perspective on where exactly she'd been reincarnated.

It was a world she'd expected only to exist in black-and-white print. In fiction. In comic books. Within the minds of great creators.

She realized it when she spotted a familiar hitai-ate on her Not-Mother's forehead, stamped with the insignia for _Konohagakure_. She realized it when she spotted a peculiar, but distinct, ANBU tattoo on her Not-Mother's upper arm when they were bathing together. She realized it, and accepted it without objection, when her Not-Mother used the henge jutsu during her hyper-involved live-action story times.

It was, undoubtedly, the world of _Naruto._

A year passed by, and Namie was able to associate names with the faces of her new "family."

Her young Not-Mother was named Taji. She'd seemed ever-present in the past, during the first few months of her life, but she eventually noticed that the woman's presence had dwindled. No doubt because of her status as an ANBU shinobi. Why she was raising her at all, she wasn't entirely certain. She couldn't recall the woman from the series.

During her absence, her reliable elder sibling took over the basic caretaker duties.

Namie didn't mind the humiliation part so much anymore. She was elated to have such a caring family.

What concerned her the most, however, was the identity of her sibling. The blond child was a young boy that Taji called Namikaze-kun.

_Namikaze Minato._

There was only one that Namie was aware of in the entirety of the story, so it could be no one else. Her older brother was none other than _the_ Namikaze Minato. The Yondaime Hokage. Nowhere near his future status just yet, but a living legend all the same. She couldn't help but feel a grand swell of pride for her older brother already.

…And an equal amount of despair.

Namie hadn't been fully caught up with the series since her teenage years, having only gotten partway through Shippuden and catching bits and pieces of the story from friends, forums, and social websites as time passed, but she did at the very least remember that, on the day Minato's future son would be born, his life would come to an end. So, too, would his wife's.

_Uzumaki Kushina. _

On the day this revelation struck her, the cogs and wheels in Namie's head began to crank slowly—turning, turning.

_Why, _she wondered,_ was I given a second chance in this world, in this family, in this particular time, if _not _to change the status quo?_

She'd been born into an extremely opportune time period—though wrought with two wars, it was filled with events whose outcomes she could heavily influence if she tried hard enough, because like _hell _she was going to just accept the limit death had placed on her precious new sibling.

It was only a matter of where to begin.

* * *

**A/N:** Here I am posting this on impulse while being sleep deprived, so I hope there's no glaring mistakes. I can't promise you I'll see it through to the end, but I do have quite a bit of the story planned out as of today and it's my current focus. I think it goes without saying that this idea has been inspired by all of the other amazing SI reborn fics out there. I mean who can resist messing with the storyline? I'm having fun with it so far, so I hope it's at least entertaining.

Thank you for reading!


	2. One: Adjusting, Perspective Shift

**A/N:** I feel I should mention that the first bit here briefly mentions the circumstances of Namie's birth and may be a bit triggering. Just a heads up! Full notes at the end of the chapter.

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Being only six years old, Namikaze Minato could not recall another time in his life when he'd felt so hopelessly alone. He could not recall another time when he'd felt such a crushing sense of despair.

However, on the flipside, he also could not recall a time in which he'd felt such a strong sense of responsibility and relief because of the revelation that he was _not_ going to be alone.

On the day his mother and father died, his younger sibling was also born.

A chain of events that were directly related.

The war had only recently broken out—it was nearing its one-year landmark. Already, it was turning out to be nearly as grim as its preceding war. Murmurs were spreading that it would soon grow into what would be called the Second Shinobi War.

It was relatively safe in the center of the Fire Country at this point, but borders were weak. All able-bodied shinobi were called into active duty to defend allies and the land that supported them.

As it was, Minato's father had been one of these soldiers. He'd lost his life all too soon during a border skirmish—one that had pushed back the opposing factions, but resulted in heavy losses on their end as well.

He'd died defending the honor of his country, but in return left alone a very pregnant wife and very young son.

When she received the news, the stress was too much for Minato's mother. The severe emotional trauma induced labor much sooner than was anticipated. Her yet-unborn child—a girl, a wonderful little baby girl she'd been so eager to meet—was slated for birth almost two full months later. No one was prepared for this, but it couldn't be stopped.

Heavy complications arose during the girl's premature delivery Her mother wasn't ready. She wasn't in a state to calm down, to be calmed—no, she was a grieving widow and unprepared single mother. The child was taken straight from the womb, and her mother was left in a state beyond saving.

Almost immediately after the forced "birth," the mother succumbed to shock and passed away.

All dreams of a happy, perfect fairytale family had come to an abrupt end.

On that day, not only did Namikaze Minato become an orphan: he also became the only living family of his tiny baby sister.

He was all she had, and she was all he had.

* * *

Three days passed until Minato was able to lay eyes on his baby sister. In that time, a silent memorial was held for the shinobi lost in battle and his mother's funeral had taken place. It was a quick, quiet affair, almost like a fleeting dream. Like most young children, he was unable to fully comprehend the meaning of the loss—only felt that hollow emptiness that was brought about by the absence of his precious family.

He'd cried. He'd cried and entire day and night, but no more. He wanted to appear strong in front of his sister, so she wouldn't cry either. One day, he knew, he would have to tell her about where their parents were. Then, they could cry together.

For moments, all he did was stare, without saying a single word. Minato had always been a relatively quiet child, one whose emotions were difficult to read, and it had worried Taji.

But, finally, he did speak.

"She's so small. Is that—_normal_, Taji-san?" The blond boy asked the young woman standing beside him, turning his face only slightly away from the glass window his fingertips were pressed against. His eyes remained on the small, wiggling form of the infant with dandelion-puff tufts of blonde hair.

He didn't know this woman very well. She was young, late in her teenage years, and had been trained under his father when she was a genin—before any time he could remember past mere hazy recollections. He _could_ recall her being present at one or two family dinners along with her teammates, so she must have felt a stronger sense of connection than he could manage. She'd been taking care of him and watching over his new sister since the day his parents had passed away.

To keep either of the children from being sent to the orphanage's care, she'd arranged for Minato to obtain an apartment, as he was now attending the Academy, and she herself had pushed for legal guardianship (if only temporary, until Minato came of age) over the children.

It hadn't been a dying wish, but both of the Namikaze parents had firmly expressed that they didn't want their children raised in such a way if anything were to happen to them. Taji and her teammates, as well as anyone who knew the couple, were aware of this. As the responsible member of her team, and the only one close to the family that had no extant relatives, Taji had taken the task upon herself.

The proposal had yet to be cleared, but she had been informed that it had a high chance of being approved. Under certain conditions, of course. If, for any reason, she was unable to provide proper care be it due to her job or personal issues, the girl-child would be turned over to the orphanage until, if she so chose, she entered the Academy.

"It's perfectly fine, Namikaze-kun." The brunette bent down to the young blond's level and peered into the nursery. Despite her early birth, the child appeared healthy—at least, the nurses hadn't mentioned any irregularities. She was out of her comfort zone and had little to no knowledge about childbirth and related procedures. She'd trained as a medic nin before being recruited by ANBU, but her area of expertise was that of a general practitioner. Perhaps she would venture into neonatal territory, if she was accepted as the children's legal guardian. "There's nothing wrong with her. In fact, we can take her home within the week." She managed a smile, even though he didn't see it.

"What's her name?" He asked suddenly, albeit quietly.

Taji started slightly, caught off guard by not knowing. The label that hung over the child's bassinet read only "Namikaze." No one had been around to name her. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "…I don't know. She doesn't have one yet."

Minato's eyes widened a fraction as a small smile quirked the edges of his lips. "It's 'Namie.'"

"Namie?" Taji echoed, tilting her head in the child's direction.

The blond nodded. "Yeah. Mom," he paused here, only momentarily, she noticed, but then pushed forwards, "talked to her sometimes. She called her 'Namie.' Sometimes it was Aoko, sometimes Sumire. It was Namie a lot more than that, though."

A gentle smile spread across the woman's face. "Then, Namie it is."

* * *

The days passed. The seasons changed. Before Minato knew it, an entire year had gone by.

He'd kept a watchful eye over his young sister the entire time, using up his spare moments between classes and training to do so. She was a fast learner, already bumbling about on her own two feet. Sometimes she was content to simply sit on the floor and fidget with toy kunai and playing blocks, but other times she half-toddled, half-skipped through the apartment at such a pace that she became a challenge to keep up with.

He could recall that one, heart-jarring moment in which she'd somehow managed to haul herself up onto the windowsill and quite nearly fell through the gaping opening—from three stories up. She'd seemed quite unperturbed by it all, as if she simply went for a look at the surroundings and hadn't at all mortally endangered herself.

After that, he and Taji made sure to properly baby-proof the home.

* * *

By two years, Namie was already semi-fluently speaking, though her very first word had come some few months earlier, and was relevant to Minato.

("Mii," she'd shrieked, waving her chubby fingers towards her older brother.

"'Mii?'" He'd parroted, pointing a finger towards himself blankly, though with a faint twinkle in his eyes.

"Mii." She'd insisted, puffing out her childish chipmunk cheeks and nodding as her eyes lit up like the sun-dappled sea.)

It was around this time that Minato thought to teach Namie how to read and write. He'd already mastered basic kana, and was progressing smoothly with kanji (his writing scores were the best in his class, actually, but he wasn't one to brag).

He set a scroll with the girl's name scrawled across it down in front of her as she lounged on the floor, stacking piles of colorful rubber shuriken on top of each other.

It seemed like child's play to any outsider, and they would most likely never know that it was her improvised version of the Tower of Hanoi puzzle, if such a thing didn't exist in the world. She was steadily approaching the minimum number of moves required to solve this particular version.

When something new entered her field of vision, the small blonde girl turned her full attention towards it. Her thin eyebrows drew together as she gazed over the characters written, traditionally vertical, on the scroll.

な

み

え

It was her name in hiragana. _Namie._ Naturally, she knew this. If her brother could reach into the inner workings of her mind, he would see the exasperated mental eye-roll and he would realize that she almost certainly had a better grasp of this language than he currently did.

Minato watched as his sister's curious eyes swept across the text. She gingerly reached out to trace the characters with her fingers—not correctly, of course. She was simply following the squiggly and diagonal lines. Suddenly, her gaze shot up to meet his own. "Mii," she asked levelly, with a nigh untraceable hint of sarcasm in her tone, "what say?"

Her speech wasn't broken and childish on purpose. It was unfairly difficult to regain usage of an infant tongue: fluid speech was still many months to a year out of her reach.

A fond smile crossed his face as he pointed to each individual character from his position on the other side of the scroll. "Na," he touched the first, "mi," the second, "e," and finally the third. Then, he raised his hand and pointed in her direction.

"My name!" She chirped, waving her arms about excitedly. She glanced between the scroll and her brother's face, beaming. "What yours?"

Smile never faltering, he took up the ink brush and wrote out the characters for his own name beside hers.

み

な

と

"Mi-na-to," he pronounced, pointing to each character yet again.

Namie traced these characters as well, and nodded with a small hum. "Same," she noted, pointing to the characters their names shared.

"Ah, you noticed." A look of mild surprise crossed the blond's face. Recognition of character patterns wasn't expected of a child her age. Especially when they weren't in the same sequence. He had classmates who still struggled with such things.

It must have run in the family.

* * *

Sometime after this, Minato took Namie on her first outdoor venture. His class was given the day off from lecture, so Taji tasked him with picking up groceries from the market sector while she was away on a short mission.

The girl could barely keep still, once her feet touched ground. It was as if she'd entered a brand new world, curious to every sight, smell, and touch. Every hitai-ate that flashed in the sunlight caught her eye; weapon holsters held particular fascination for her; nothing escaped her notice. However, she didn't blatantly approach others and barrage them with questions like young ones were prone to do. She only observed.

Her rampant scurrying elicited a strong urge of overprotectiveness within her older sibling, so to end her free reign, he hoisted her up onto his shoulders.

From her new perch, she'd gained yet another perspective. Curiosity was renewed.

Once she was tired out by information overload, the girl rested her hands on her brother's head and tried to lean forwards to catch his eye. "Mii, where we go?"

Minato shifted his hold on her legs—she wasn't heavy, but he was worried she would fidget and fall if he wasn't careful—and gazed upwards. "The market. Taji-san is making katsudon tonight."

"Katsudon!" Namie chirped, grinning. Then, not but a second later, her attention shifted. "Ohh—what that?"

The older blond patiently tolerated his sister's curious inquiries and provided her with explanations as they walked along, despite the fact that this new role as a makeshift tour guide doubled—maybe even tripled—the time it would have taken to go shopping normally.

It was worth it just to see the joy it brought the small girl.

"Namie," Minato called gently to catch the girl's attention as she swiveled around to sightsee. When she stooped to catch his eyes again, he continued. "Do you want to know where we live?"

She simply stared, for a moment. Her attention was strangely focused. After a moment, she nodded.

"This village is called Konohagakure. It's within the Land of Fire." He was hesitant to add on the last bit of information, as it was still much too soon to go into a geography lesson with the child. It was even too soon to explain what shinobi were. Perhaps when she grew closer to Academy age. He would have to do his best to abridge the explanations if she further pried, as she was prone to do.

"Konohaga—oh." The girl's recitation of their village's name was cut short as yet another interesting sight caught her attention. Her eyes had gone round in surprise and her mouth hung open slightly. It wasn't often that something could render her speechless. Minato stopped walking, followed her line of vision, and immediately spotted what had caught his sibling off guard.

It was hard to miss something so vibrant, after all.

It was the fiery red hair of his classmate, Uzumaki Kushina.

Namie still hadn't made a peep. Her eyes were transfixed on the other girl.

They were standing a good distance away, out of immediate notice, but they were still close enough to see that the girl wasn't alone. Minato could vaguely recognize that the two boys with her were also from their class.

It looked like Kushina managed to attract trouble even when they weren't in school.

Namie made a somewhat startled gurgle when one of the boys tugged at the redhead's long hair. Then, she tangled her fingers in her brother's spiky hair and gave a slight pull, as if emulating the action. "Ah—_ouch_—Namie?" He reached up to coax her into letting go, fearing that maybe she'd picked up a bad habit, but she immediately released the hold once her point was made.

"Mii, why you not help?" She demanded, lips pulled into a pout.

He glanced back towards the rambunctious scene wistfully. Namie was about to pull his hair again when he remained silent, but was distracted by a cry of pain that came from the group. Kushina had lambasted the boy that touched her hair, and knocked the other to the ground when he attempted to avenge his friend.

"Because she doesn't need it." Minato readjusted his hold on the young girl's legs and continued on.

Namie kept her eyes on the scene, following the wild movements of the redheaded firecracker, until the oscillating crowd blocked her sight. She absentmindedly smoothed out the patch of Minato's hair she'd mussed, keeping to a pensive silence.

Those words provided a new perspective.

* * *

**A/N: ** Aaaa thank you all so much for your reviews, follows, and favorites! Your feedback and support means a lot to me. Also, please don't take it personally if I don't respond to your lovely reviews-I'll really only do that if there's a comment that needs addressing, or a question that needs answering. Just know that I do read every one and I am grateful for receiving them and I will probably tell you so at the end of each chapter.

This time period is a little hazy with the details and dates since not much is really revealed about it, so I did some research from various sources outside the manga to pull together my own timeline which this story and its events are based around. From this point on, if anything I mentions seems grossly out of place, or if there is a specific date I'm unaware of that I should use here, please don't hesitate to tell me. And I am taking liberties with a handful of certain canon characters that lack background information because why not.

As always, thank you for reading!


	3. Two: Developments, The Wheel Turns

Namie's plan was multifaceted—but it was contingent upon learning when certain events would take place and getting a grasp of the current timeline. As a toddler, it was difficult to obtain this information on her own. She'd determined that there was nothing she could actively do until she was of Academy age or older. In the meantime, she worked on constructing a mental map containing all of the world information she was aware of.

The Sandaime Hokage was in office.

The second war was no doubt in effect—eavesdropping on conversations and catching bits and phrases of gossip in passing had proved fruitful. This meant the Sannin were still within the village as a whole—she wasn't certain they'd gained their reputation yet, however.

Minato was attending the Academy with Kushina. At this point in time, their relationship was undetermined—yet she still earned his attention, if the marketplace incident was anything to go by. She wouldn't be getting kidnapped until a while after they became genin, at least.

Kakashi and his generation were either not yet born, or extremely young.

'_Where will it go from here_,' she asked herself, picking at the bright, porous skin of a mikan orange thoughtfully. Her mental timeline of the series before her death was only partial, but she knew for certain what would main events would occur up to that point. She'd clearly divvied up what she knew into three time periods: before Naruto's birth, after Naruto's birth, and Shippuden.

In chronological order, it was more or less: the formation of the legend known as the Sannin and the end of the second war; Tsunade leaving the village with Shizune; the beginning of the third war, the Kannabi Bridge incident, Rin's death, the end of the war and her brother's subsequent promotion to Hokage. The marriage of Minato and Kushina, and then the birth of Uzumaki Naruto.

Then, their deaths.

There was so much more to cover, mainly involving Orochimaru and Danzo, but Namie found it was difficult to consider the future past that detrimental moment. It was a mental roadblock.

When anyone encountered a roadblock, it was only natural to find an alternate route.

Thus, the initial step of her grand scheme began to form: to prevent the deaths of her brother and his future wife.

There were two directions she was actively considering.

The first: prevent Minato and Kushina from ever developing a relationship that would lead to marriage and a child. This option mad her leery, for the sole reason that it could mean the prevention of the main character's birth. She wasn't confident enough that he would be born under different circumstances, to a different bloodline, if she interfered. Then, too, this option begged the question about just what a main character truly was. Certainly, Naruto had been the main character when this world was only a manga series—he was the Child of the Prophecy. It was an acceptable fact. But every living human was the main character of their own story, as the saying went. In essence, there were no main characters in real life. In the end, it came down to this: what would become of the world if she denied it one of three possible children of the prophecy?

She didn't want to dwell on it.

This led to the second option: preventing Obito's death at the Kannabi Bridge. Keeping him away from Madara. He'd played an active role in bringing about Minato and Kushina's death by going after the Ninetails. If his intent was removed, Namie assumed the attack could be postponed. It was a much cleaner approach, though considerably more difficult to achieve than the first. For starters, she would have to find a way to be present, to ensure that he did not die. Second, Uchiha Madara was an independent, alien entity who could have a contingency plan—or several. This intervention of hers might have little to no effect on what outcome that man foresaw and she was not so arrogant to believe she could match the scheme of a villain she knew very little about.

Not only that, but in order to reach a level where she could accomplish_ anything_, she had to become a shinobi. She wasn't even sure if she had sufficient chakra stores for that.

Or the necessary ability to control it.

"Namie?"

The tiny blonde jerked in surprise and quickly glanced up to meet the eyes of her guardian. "Taji-san?" She mimicked the questioning tone.

"Are you having trouble peeling that?" The woman pointed at the small fruit and quirked up an eyebrow in amusement.

Namie returned her attention to the orange and balked when she spotted the several nail marks and dents in its surface. An embarrassed grin spread across her lips. "Yeah! Ehehe. You do it please?"

The brunette sighed, but held out her hand in pity. "Hand it over, little one."

Namie relinquished it gratefully—or at least, she tried. The moment she tried to release it, the fruit stubbornly clung to her palm.

"Ah," Taji interjected in surprise, at the same moment Namie uttered a baffled "huh?"

The older woman leaned forwards and held her hand towards the fruit before pausing, then glancing at the girl with awe. "You're not—you can't be doing that on purpose, right Namie? There's…there's no way."

Namie squinted in puzzlement, then shook her hand to free the fruit. It remained glued to her skin.

Taji continued reaching for the orange and held her hand open beneath it. "Here," she muttered, "just let it go. Don't think about it."

Her eyes were still round in wonder. There was something in her tone that Namie couldn't read.

Ah. It finally came to her as an epiphany. This was chakra.

But—she hadn't even been _aware_. She'd always assumed chakra would be something tactile within her body, like a muted stream of liquid, or a faint current of energy. This had to be unintentional, some freak occurrence. She wasn't even four yet. Wasn't it too early to become aware of her chakra system? She hadn't even—

As panic roiled at the edges of her consciousness, the orange finally, abruptly detached from her hand and fell into her guardian's awaiting palm.

The woman observed the fruit thoughtfully, rolling it between her fingers, to examine the trace of chakra left on it, no doubt.

Namie held her breath.

Taji looked up with a contemplative smile, and began to peel the orange. "Namie…do you want to learn how to be a shinobi?"

The girl didn't waste a moment to respond. "I want to!" It was a step towards increasing the success rate of her plan.

Taji nodded. "I thought so. You're a bit young, but I suppose we can start with the basics. Do you know what chakra is, Namie?" She was young, indeed, a few months shy of turning four. She wouldn't be entering the Academy for the next couple of years, but it did no harm to prepare her for what was to come.

The woman had never taught a child before, but during her genin days, she'd assisted her teammates with various training techniques. As a kunoichi with a focus in medical ninjutsu, she could even help her get a firmer grasp on her chakra control—which, if continued unchecked at this point, could endanger her young life. To be able to use chakra at such a young age, even if it was a fluke, must have meant her reserves were already considerably developed. More so than hers at been at the same age, and most non-clan children, at the very least.

Well, sometimes anomalies like this cropped up. Her parents had both been slightly-above-average shinobi, both at the jounin level, so it wasn't surprising if their children turned out to be equally or more talented than them.

Along with that, with how well Minato was currently doing in school, Taji felt it wasn't unfair to expect the same quality from Namie.

She didn't think much on whether or not she should influence the child with such a dangerous career path, either, because her older brother was the one who provided her with plastic kunai and shuriken toys. If that wasn't a subtle indication that he wanted his sibling to follow the same path as opposed to the safer civilian route, then Taji felt she overestimated the blond boy.

Namie shook her head, though she sat up straighter in her chair.

Taji split the orange apart and set the half-sections on the table between them. "Everybody has chakra," she began, abridging her explanations for a young mind. "It's what keeps us alive, and also what makes life possible. " She indicated the two halves of the fruit. "It's made up of physical and spiritual energy—the body and the mind. Your core," she pointed towards the girl's belly, "houses the chakra. But it circulates all throughout the body. It's also the driving force behind shinobi as a whole. Without it, well…nothing but standard hand-to-hand combat would be possible." Here, she paused, and her eyebrows furrowed. She wondered if perhaps she should have simplified her explanation a bit more for a young mind.

Namie was staring down at the orange and blinking placidly.

Taji wasn't sure if she'd heard her at all, or just tuned her out when it got too tedious to listen. "But, well," she continued on, "regulating its usage is the most important thing. If you use up too much, you could really hurt yourself. But if you don't know how to control it, you can never master ninjutsu and genjutsu. Most people only have a base understanding of this, but some, like medics, rely completely on their chakra control."

"Like you, Taji-san?" The girl asked, glancing up curiously with a small smile playing at her lips.

Taji nodded. "Like me." She hummed thoughtfully. "What you just did, with the orange—most kids don't learn to do that until sometime in their Academy classes, or later. It's called _channeling chakra_. When done correctly, you can make objects stick to certain areas on your body."

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Namie nodded, expression focused. A moment later, though, it was replaced by an apologetic grin. "Kinda understand. Still a little confused." She reached for half of the orange and began nibbling on it, smiling absently.

The older woman was already set on teaching her how to use her chakra. However, she had no intention of becoming a young prodigy. Drawing extra attention (especially from undesirable characters) was out of the question and would impede her plans. It wasn't as if she was special, anyways. If she was able to learn to control her chakra at a young age, it would only be due to her adult mentality. Physical accomplishments, however, she could attribute to her malleable young body. In any case, relying on the subterfuge of a normal kunoichi seemed ideal for her at the moment.

Taji picked up the other half of the orange and bit into it. "Well, that can't be helped. We'll work on it. Maybe Minato can help out, too. How would you like that?"

Hearing her big brother's name, the girl's face lit up. "Really?"

"Really. He can tell us how the Academy handles things like this. He's already pretty good at controlling his chakra, you know."

A slightly smug smirk crossed the girl's face. "Of course."

* * *

Chakra control was a greater challenge than Namie had expected. The energy wasn't something she could feel, not physically. It was more natural, and inherent, like the blood's circulatory system. Known to exist, but impossible to see or touch. But, similar to being able to feel a pulse, when it was channeled to the surface, between chakra points, chakra was vaguely tactile. She could feel an added weight, like something was definitely there. She supposed that, the more she channeled, the greater the weight would be.

Unlike Taji had hoped, she was nowhere near talented at controlling it. That time had definitely been a fluke.

Because chakra wasn't something Namie could feel, visualizing it and directing it was nigh impossible. Consistently holding it was much the same.

("Match it with your breathing," Taji had coached, "imagine pulling it up when you inhale. Then direct it when you exhale.")

'_Balderdash_,' Namie concluded.

Eventually, Taji provided her with charts that depicted the chakra system and all 361 tenketsu points in the body. Minato had even shared what his instructors had lectured on the matter and attempted to provide advice.

("How do _I_ do it?" He'd mused, humming in thought, "well…I'm not sure how to explain it. For me, it just comes naturally.")

In theory, it was simple. So basic that _any_ child could do it. But the transition from a textbook description to real-world application had always been one of Namie's struggles.

If _this_ way didn't work, and _that_ way didn't work, then she had no choice but to find an alternate method.

In the midst of her struggle with chakra, Minato successfully graduated from the Academy and became an integral part of Team Jiraiya.

It wasn't until sometime past her fourth birthday that Namie was able to succeed.

She'd thought back to the first time she'd channeled chakra, and dissected the situation until she'd determined what caused it.

During that time, she had been deeply immersed in thought, blind to the world around her. She hadn't been thinking about chakra at all, past a brief consideration of it. It had been an idle, absentminded event.

And she was holding onto an orange the entire time.

From this, she formulated the idea that she had to be in a completely focused state, while grounded to the object she wished to channel her chakra towards. But in the sense of being focused, she didn't need to concentrate solely on channeling her chakra, as was expected.

Her problem was that she was _too_ focused, and stressing herself out, preventing the chakra from flowing where it was desired.

When she applied this thought in practice, letting her mind wander on another matter and only briefly lingering on the chakra activity, she found one of her plastic kunai sticking to her fingers. She tried again, this time pressing the kunai to her forehead, and a moment later, it dropped away and clattered to the ground.

The third time, it also failed.

She learned that mental balance was key, but finding equilibrium was difficult. If she let her focus shift too far towards the chakra, some internal conflict led to the action's failure. If she didn't think on it long enough—while still keeping it brief—it would also fail.

The method made little sense, but it was all she had to work with. It was a start.

* * *

Minato had been consumed by training and completing missions with his new team, Namie noticed. Perhaps she exaggerated. He was home for dinner most days, but retired almost immediately afterwards out of sheer exhaustion. Breakfast time was the only part of the day she interacted with him, if he didn't have a day off, so it was only slightly better than never seeing him at all.

She was starting to miss him. He was a constant in her life, after all.

Even Taji's presence was dwindling. Namie figured that, once she enrolled in the Academy, her guardian would most likely return to full-time ANBU duties. For now, it seemed, the majority of her work was at the hospital.

At times, Namie found herself tagging along with Taji when she had to drop by for paperwork duties or emergency calls. No one seemed to mind her bringing a child to work—a few of the nurses did the same, it seemed, so it must have been a frequent occurrence.

"Ah, you brought Namie-chan today, Taji-kun?" One of the older nurses fawned as she bent down to the girl's level and held out a small bag of sweets.

"I did." The brunette woman's lips pursed as she saw her ward accept the candy eagerly—she'd been trying to destroy that sweet tooth of hers—but she said nothing and turned a blind eye.

Namie liked this woman. Not only because she gave her free candy (who could hate someone who gave _free_ things?), but because she reminded her of her late maternal grandmother. Her name was Chieko, she was a retired chuunin kunoichi, and had three children. One was a civilian, one was lost to war, and the other was a special jounin who taught at the Academy. She apparently taught young girls how to become proper kunoichi. In fact, that very kunoichi's daughter was hanging around the hospital under the watchful eye of her grandmother.

Chieko insisted that they meet.

"Oh, you get to make a friend, Namie. Isn't that nice?" Taji encouraged, eyes crinkling at the edges as she smiled. The one thing that the young girl's life lacked, she knew, was influence from peers. When Minato had been around, she didn't give it much thought. As long as Namie had another child present, it was fine. But since her brother was busy with his shinobi life, it was time that she branched out and formed her own network. It was all a part of growing up.

Namie cast only a brief glance at her guardian—and received a small wave in return—before the older woman led her away towards a small, cozy lounge room.

"Suzume-chan?" Chieko called as she opened the door and poked her head in. When she spotted the girl, she stepped into the room and ushered Namie along. "I've brought someone to meet you!"

Namie let her gaze wander across the room, which seemed for all the world to be empty, until she spotted a small brunette girl sitting on the floor in front of one of the couches in proper seiza form. Or rather, she spotted her _hair_ first. It was wildly curly and frizzy, and cropped close to her face, like a mini-afro. Probably more likened to a tangled ebony birds nest sitting atop her head. Even with a cute hairpin, it couldn't be tamed. Her eyes were small and dark, but noticeably sharp. They narrowed slightly when Namie came into her field of vision.

With grace, the young girl rose to her feet and approached.

Namie mentally whistled, impressed. The girl, no older than herself, was wearing a traditional kimono and conducting herself with so much poise that she could have appeared at least two years older.

In contrast, Namie was wearing a long, hooded blue shirt that doubled as a dress, with shorts underneath. She didn't care much for posture, and was standing comfortably, in a slight slouch. The picture of laziness.

There was no fun to be had with this one, she realized.

"Suzume, this is Namie-chan, Taji-kun's daughter—"

Hearing the word used so blatantly, the blonde girl jumped. But only slightly. She'd never thought of Taji as her _mother_, much less as a guardian. She was more like an older sister. All the same, hearing that title in reference to her and Taji caused faint warmth to rise to her cheeks.

"—and Namie-chan, this is my granddaughter, Suzume." Chieko finished.

"Pleased to meet you." The dark-haired girl bowed, not hesitating in the slightest, before rising and catching Namie's eye curiously.

Namie managed a small nod, and fiddled with the front pocket on her shirt. "Hi."

"I have to get back to work now, girls. Have fun." The older woman grinned as she left the room and quietly shut the door behind herself.

It took all of Namie's self-control not to roll her eyes. Certainly, the let's-make-friends-with-everybody phase had been enjoyable during her youth, but the second time around it was tedious and—quite honestly—painful. She would probably never see this girl again in her life.

Suzume seemed to sense her disinterest—or perhaps she felt the same—and returned to where she was sitting before. Namie lolled after her and took a seat on one of the couches, fully intending to munch on the candy Chieko had given her before Taji had a chance to snatch it away. Then, she caught sight of what the girl was occupied with.

'_Memory?'_ Namie mused, tilting her head slightly. '_How boring. What a stuffy kid.' _

She wasn't that skilled, either. She could finish a game ten times faster than this girl. But Namie figured she was being unfair, comparing an adult's mind to a child's.

"It's that one," she supplied blandly, pointing towards the card nearest to the girl's left hand, when she seemed to be having trouble matching a pair.

Suzume shot her a wordless glance over her shoulder before ignoring her suggestion. When she tried to match the card, got it wrong, then tried Namie's choice to find that she was correct, her shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly.

Namie's lips quirked in a slight smirk. She intervened yet again. "Try the one to the right."

The third time she tried this, it seemed the girl reached a breaking point.

"Why don't _you_ just play, since you're apparently so good?"

Namie shrugged and shook her head. "There's no point, if I'm so good. Right? Suzume-chan?"

The girl frowned, and if Namie didn't know better, it sounded as if she also growled. '_What happened to the composed ojou-chan?'_ She derided, leaning forwards on the couch.

"Then, rock-paper-scissors." Suzume returned, lips set in a firm line.

"Huh?" Namie breathed, leaning her chin on her hand.

"I'm challenging you, Namie-_chan_." Her tone held the same light mocking that Namie used before.

"Don't wanna." Namie declined. Playing with children? Please.

The girl's eyes bugged in outrage. "You—" she stammered, "you are truly dislikeable!"

Namie blinked. Then, she flopped back on the couch and picked up her bag of sweets to dig through it. To her, this girl was a faceless stock character. She couldn't recall her name from the series, and she wasn't a part of her small family, and she wasn't particularly nice, like her grandmother. Interacting with her had only been a venue for entertainment. Beyond that, she was just some brat nobody.

Suzume did not take kindly to being ignored. Her hands were curled into fists, and her shoulders were shaking. Even if the other young girl had such bright, smooth golden hair, it didn't give her the right to act so downright obnoxious. Angry tears welled up in the girl's dark eyes.

When a hiccup-sob met her ears, Namie looked up. '_Ah, jeez,'_ she sighed, '_she's crying.'_

The blonde glanced contemplatively between the crying girl and the bag of candy in her hands. With a slightly constipated expression, she held out one of the sweets.

Just as soon as she'd proffered it, the candy was knocked from her hand. Namie's jaw unhinged in shock.

"Disgusting," Suzume commented, fiercely wiping the back of her hand across her wet eyes. "Your fingers were all over it."

"But—" Namie spluttered, leaning over the armrest as she searched the ground for her fallen candy. _It was one of her favorites._

"You—you—you…" Namie's voice caught, and she turned to the girl was a glare. "Don't waste food!" She hissed, holding her hands towards the girl and flexing them as if she wanted to strangle her.

"Candy is not _food_," was her only response.

Namie's glare melted into a glower. "I don't think I like you, either, Ultra Perm."

Suzume's expression mirrored the other girl's. "Then we're in perfect sync."

It was the start of a beautiful…rivalry.

* * *

**A/N:** Another day, another chapter. There's not really any set update schedule yet, I'm just posting what I have because a small portion has been written already and there's about 5 more chapters ahead of this currently. Once I catch up and upload all of what's already written, I'll probably settle into a weekly-or-so routine depending on how often inspiration strikes.

To the guest reviewer mentioning the hiragana from last chapter: it was very much intentional! I'm aware that for us readers most of the characters' first names are expressed with katakana, but I based this on the fact that, in-universe, Naruto signs his name to the toad summoning contract using hiragana. I don't really recall if the others write their names any other way, but even then, I'm going by the system that Japanese people tend to write their names in hiragana or kanji unless it's foreign, which would then use katakana. But thank you for pointing that out and providing the katakana just in case I hecked up somewhere!

Also to the other guest reviewer talking about how Namie might influence Minato and Kushina's relationship: Aww that was really cute! I can totally picture that happening, but who knows how it will turn out when the story actually reaches that point, haha.

PS Suzume is actually a canon character. Does anyone remember her? She only showed up briefly and is extremely minor, but in the series nevertheless! Taji is, too.

And as always, thank you all for supporting and reading.


	4. Three: Heart-to-Heart, Enrollment

Namie had never given much thought to the fact that Minato had lost his parents at a young age. She'd never met them, so despite the fact that they were also her parents in this life, they were virtually perfect strangers.

Not only that, but she was of a mental age where she was self-sufficient. The absence of a mother and father that weren't the pair she originally knew wasn't detrimental to her development.

There was Taji, of course, but it was difficult to accept her as a proper mother figure considering their unseen age gap.

For her brother, it was different. He'd lost his mother and father the same day she was born. They were people who must have been dear to him, yet she hadn't heard him speak a word of them, look even remotely despondent, or shed a single tear.

He had to feel pain, and loss. He'd always come off as soft-spoken, albeit determined, but damned if his emotions weren't difficult to read.

"Brother," Namie spoke up one day (by now, at the age of five, she was much too old to call him by that other, childish nickname), "what were Mother and Father like?"

It was one of the rare days in which he was not together with his team, and Namie accompanied him to a training field for morning practice. While she struggled with chakra control exercises, he trained all-around. From what she could tell, his skills were fairly well-balanced. Sometimes, he even imparted some of his knowledge and gave her a head-start on learning practical techniques that the Academy would cover.

Aside from helping her with chakra control, his instructions were fairly straightforward and easy to follow. She'd learned how to form the basic hand seals, as well as a few combinations for beginner level techniques. It was tricky transitioning between them rapidly, but her dexterity was not poor and was steadily increasing with practice.

He also breached the territory of taijutsu kata, ranging from rudimentary defense to methods of disarming an opponent. Nothing particularly complex, but useful all the same.

Upon hearing that overly-formal manner of address, Minato grimaced slightly*****. He made to protest the title, as he usually did, but when she continued speaking, his expression became controlled and unreadable. He returned his kunai to its holster and slowly approached the girl, crouching down on the ground beside her when he was close enough. His hand dropped atop her head, and she winced slightly, as his fingers gently mussed her hair out of habit. It was sweaty, and a little grimy, but she didn't mind.

"I was wondering when you would ask that."

Namie looked up into his eyes only momentarily—he had a shinobi's knack for veiling his emotions, so there was nothing to see there. Her gaze wandered up to the barely-tarnished metal of his hitai-ate. It was a stark reminder that he was an official ninja of Konoha now, just another soldier among many. Faced with the threat of danger and even death on a daily basis. She suppressed a grimace and pursed her lips. "And?"

A moment later, he rose to his feet and extended his hand towards her. "I think it's time we head home."

The girl furrowed her brow when he refrained from elaborating, but planted her small hand in his own as he helped her up. "Lunchtime?" She muttered, to which he nodded in reply.

He didn't mention the subject again until they were back in their apartment. While she headed to the kitchen to prepare some rice and leftovers, Minato hurried along to his room.

Namie found a loose photograph being held in her direction when he returned.

It depicted a small child with a shock of yellow hair, a smiling woman with matching hair, and a man with sandier-toned hair. He looked some few years older than the woman—by at least five years. His face was scarred (one near the eyebrow, another on the chin), and so were the woman's bare arms. Though light, they were the clear mark of shinobi.

They were all three smiling; all happy.

There were distinctive dimples on the woman's face. The man had crow's feet crinkling the edges of his eyes. The woman's eyes were bright brown, but the man's eyes were blue.

The two siblings had inherited their mother's hair and their father's eyes.

Namie's heart squeezed strangely as she realized she was unable to feel an emotional connection to these people. All she could do was observe the basic facts.

"You're there, too, Namie." Minato said quietly.

One of the woman's hands rested lightly across her midsection.

Namie's fingertips lightly grazed the image. A pang of guilt struck her as she considered the possibility that, if it weren't for _her_, the woman could still be alive. So, too, could the man. If it had taken two lives in exchange for her reincarnation into this strange world, then their blood was on her hands.

She didn't belong here, after all. But she also couldn't deny the possibility that, if she wasn't herself, the child within the small baby bump on the woman's stomach could be anyone else.

In fact, every nerve within her was screaming to deny the relationship that existed between them. Even if she could, at times, see a hint of the woman's dimples in her left cheek when she looked in a mirror.

_This_ was who she was, now. It was her duty to learn more about them. The man who had given his life to protect his village, his family—his beloved wife, son and unborn daughter. And the woman who had carefully raised an unborn child within her womb—who would have raised her daughter with as much care.

She felt obligated to honor their memory.

"Their names were Sei and Harumi. Dad was a jounin instructor who handled fieldwork and dealt heavily in traps. Taji-san was part of his genin team," he seemed to add the last part as an afterthought, but there was brief hesitation in his voice that Namie didn't miss. "Mom was a special jounin who worked in the field, too, before I was born. Then she transferred to the aviary. I think…probably…the scars are from the hawks."

Finally, some emotion began to color his words. Reciting the information elicited a fond thoughtfulness in his tone. Though, it was still somewhat mechanical, as if he'd practiced it before. She wondered if he'd really been waiting for her to ask about the two.

"What happened to them?"

Minato was silent for a moment. "…Dad fell to the enemy during battle, but his efforts contributed to Konoha's victory. Do you remember when I showed you the Memorial Stone?" She nodded. "His name is inscribed there."

The girl looked towards her brother's face. As she expected, his eyes were shining with unshed moisture as he stared nostalgically at the picture.

It was unnecessary to ask, so Namie felt somewhat regretful when she pushed, "and Mother?"

Their eyes met. He seemed to be debating as to whether or not he should tell her the truth. But, her brother never did lie. Though gentle by nature, he did not sugarcoat the truth. Not even to his child sister.

"She died giving birth to you." He was straightforward. "But," he quickly added, "that doesn't mean it was your fault. They say it was because of the shock. Hearing about Dad's death pushed her into labor and you were born two months earlier than expected." His words were spoken rapidly.

Her heart twinged in a painful way. She'd been consumed by that thought only seconds before, and he was already absolving her of responsibility for the tragedy.

If only he knew.

Unbidden, warm tears pooled in Namie's eyes. She tried to keep them at bay, but they overflowed. Sobs rose in her throat and she clamped her trembling lips shut tightly.

If he knew she was an impostor, would he treat her the same way?

Would he blame her for their parent's deaths?

He didn't know. _Couldn't_ know. So, she would hold that fear deep inside, and never speak of it.

Minato was the only person she trusted in this world. Her only true _family_. The only one who truly _mattered._

If he abandoned her, she would be alone. Lost.

"It—it wasn't your fault, Namie," he repeated hesitantly, kneeling down and putting his hands on her shoulders. His eyebrows were drawn together and he looked unsure, as if he wished he could take back what he'd said. There was a slight tremble in his voice when he spoke again. "There was a chance you could die. She allowed them to perform a dangerous operation—she did it to protect you. She gave her life to ensure that you _got_ one. So," his voice caught, "don't look so sad. Don't blame yourself. She—she wouldn't want that..."

When tears began to trickle down his cheeks, Namie flung her arms around his neck.

He was much too kind. Much too forgiving.

If only he _knew._

* * *

Namie vowed, from that day on, that she would never let Minato cry over his precious people ever again.

No matter what turn her plans took, she would always act keeping him in mind.

And so, she trained harder. She had to become strong, for him. She no longer cared about remaining under the radar and avoiding the label of genius. She would give her heart to hard work and become as strong as her body and mind would allow, and if it meant she would face trouble along the way, then she would handle it.

A year passed, and finally, at the age of six, the girl entered the Academy.

* * *

"Are you sure you have time to walk me to the Academy, Brother?" Namie asked as she swiftly wove her short hair into twin braids on either side of her head. Taji was the one who usually fussed over her hair care, but she was busy with medic duties on the warfront. She'd wanted to be present on Namie's first day of school, but it couldn't be helped.

Minato paused in rushing back and forth preparing his tools—he was also slated for a team mission that morning, only shortly after she was due at the Academy—and mussed his sister's hair fondly. "I'm sure. I may not be able to stay for the ceremony, but you're not going to school _alone _on your first day, Namie." A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Your bangs are getting long. Want me to cut them so they don't get in the way?"

"Can you?" Namie mused, raising an eyebrow. Again, that was Taji's area of expertise—she handled trimming both of their hair.

"Well, Taji-san isn't here, so I can try?"

She pinched a few strands of her long bangs and held them out in front of her eyes. They were getting to a point where they hung messily in front of her eyes. It would annoy her sooner or later, especially when she was going to have to stare at teachers and blackboards for most of the day. "Ah, 'kay. Just a little, though."

With a nod and small smile, he retreated to the kitchen, then came back a moment later with a pair of scissors. He carefully gathered her bangs, and then snipped. One of his eyebrows quirked. He made another cut. Then another. And another.

Namie pressed her lips firmly together and clenched her fists as she realized, with nagging dread, the problem. It was one she'd encountered many times in her previous life—trying to cut her own bangs, and getting them _even._ When she saw the several chunks of her hair floating to the ground, she instantly knew what was happening.

Before she could protest, the damage was already done.

Minato noticed it, too. He rubbed the back of his head a little sheepishly. "I think…I may have cut a bit too much. Sorry, Namie."

Namie picked up the small hand mirror she was using to braid her hair earlier and felt her breath catch in her throat. '_He's made me a laughingstock. On the first day of school, even.'_

Though they were, at the very least, out of her eyes, her bangs were now straight and chunky, only a little ways past her hairline, sticking up like stiff, stringy pieces of straw. Her fingers combed through the short mess ruefully. If she had been any other child, true to their age, it would have made her cry. As it was, she was strong enough to withstand any possible teasing—plus, she didn't particularly care what others thought. She was tempted to laugh, too, at the ridiculous cowlick.

Actually, she did. Her voice tremored with a small chuckle as she grinned at her worried sibling. "It's fine. Thanks, Brother." She could never stay mad at _him_.

Minato started in confusion, then relaxed, looking relieved. For a brief moment, he was afraid she may burst into tears. Either that, or hit him.

Girls were sensitive about their hair, after all—if Kushina's reactions were anything to go by.

"Really," she continued, as if sensing his distress, "they'll grow back!"

Finally, he smiled. "Right." It was a good thing she was so mature for her age (either that or he feared she was passive aggressive. He strongly hoped it wasn't the latter). She would be fawned over by the teachers for sure. His eyes wandered towards the clock. "We'd better get going so you're not late for the entrance ceremony."

* * *

Namie surveyed the group of two-dozen-or-so fellow students loitering around the front of the Academy after she wished Minato good luck on his mission and hurried him away so he wouldn't be late.

She'd arrived just as the gathering began to filter indoors. From what she could see, it was a ragtag crowd, filled with parents and children of various levels of interest. No one in particular had stood out, and no one's appearance was familiar. There were likely no major characters among her generation, as she was certain that Team Kakashi and its contemporaries were still too young to attend.

At most, there were minor members of major clans mixed into the fray, and a stray cousin or two of known canon families, but all in all she surmised that her classmates were nothing impressive.

It wasn't until she approached the end of the queue that she realized she _had_ met one of the students before.

"Oh. You." Namie acknowledged, observing the girl's messy hair. It was a wonder that had escaped her notice before.

Suzume turned slightly at the voice that sounded beside her, then did a double-take and stumbled, going momentarily slack-jawed at the sight of the other girl's hair. A slight smirk pulled at her lips, and her eyes narrowed in amusement as she prepared to speak—but then decided against it and simply cleared her throat.

"The silent treatment, Ultra Perm?" She set a hand on her hip. '_No, rather, I think she's doing her best to appear proper in public. Ladies don't start fights, apparently.'_ There was more she had to say on the matter when the girl kept to her silence and snootily avoided her by hurrying forwards, but something bumped into her side and nearly sent her pitching over before she could say a word.

Namie quickly regained her balance and spun around to admonish the person who shoved into her, but whoever it was had already moved into the building. "Hey," she called, following after the kid and grabbing his shoulder. "You're supposed to apologize when you run into someone. Who raised you, a pack of wolves?" When the boy in question turned to face her with a confused look, revealing the red, fang-shaped marks on his face, she realized that accusation wasn't far off the mark. '_Ah, an Inuzuka.'_

"No. It was dogs." The Inuzuka replied without a trace of sarcasm. He grinned proudly.

"Huh…" Namie squinted, uncertain if that was meant to be taken as a joke or not. "Well, are you gonna apologize?"

With a shrug and a toothy grin, he offered an insincere "Sorry!" before turning and hurrying down the hallway.

'_Kids.'_ Namie sighed, glaring after him. When she realized she was the final straggler in the area, she quickly followed after her classmates.

The entrance ceremony was held in one of the larger lecture rooms. It wasn't so much a ceremony than an information session with little fanfare. It was rushed, and kept brief, and the Hokage wasn't even present—but given that they were in wartimes, the quick and efficient display seemed appropriate.

The new students were told in a broad sense what was expected of them during their enrollment period, what they would be learning, and what would be required of them to graduate into genin. Scrolls and manila folders were passed around, the chuunin instructors made their introductions, and at the end the large group of children was split into two. It was all bland and mind-numbingly boring to Namie (she wanted to get into the _action_), so she paid little attention up until the moment her name was called.

Much to her displeasure, she'd been placed in the same class section as the Inuzuka, and Suzume.

* * *

**A/N:**

*****By "overly formal" it's meant that Namie's addressing him as "aniue" which approximates to "honorable older brother" instead of the usual "nii-san/chan" or something less formal. I was hesitant to include the term in its original sense, so it's been replaced simply with "Brother" in all future instances.

The Inuzuka mentioned is an OC, and I have a couple more that will be appearing in the future. Also, if there's any mistakes anywhere please don't hesitate to point them out. I edit this myself and am beta-less at the moment and I'm only human so things slip past me at times.

Thank you for your support!


	5. Four: Looking Up, Looking Down

"Hey, Ayase," Minato called to his team's kunoichi with a vaguely troubled expression, "can I ask you something?"

Team Jiraiya was currently engaged in a C-rank mission that took them past the gates of Konoha, but not quite near any warring zones. It was only a recovery mission, typically only garnering a D ranking, but the possibility that enemy nin could crop up had bumped it up a level. Apparently, a merchant had been ambushed on the remaining thirty miles to the village and his cart was ransacked by rogues. He'd fled, and filed a recovery request with Konoha's administration when he arrived. Even if the goods were damaged or missing, he at least wanted his cart back. It seemed an absurd request, but the man had the money and resources to have it done.

The dark-haired Hyuuga kunoichi glanced over her shoulder curiously. It wasn't often that the blond boy was the first to speak casually with either of his teammates—especially with such an odd question. Most of the time, he only interacted with Jiraiya. It was the same for both teammates, too, really. If they weren't discussing mission parameters and tactics, they were not a social group. "Sure. What's up?" Came her vaguely suspicious response.

Minato's eyes drifted towards the girl's hair. She wore it in a topknot, but it wasn't messy and there didn't seem to be a hair out of place. Obviously, she put a great deal of care into it, even if it was arranged in a neat, minimalist style. "Girls care a lot about their hair, right?"

The brunette's hand shot up to touch lightly at the top of her head. It was a weird question. But then again, even though he was nice, and more adept than she was, the blond was sort of weird, too. "Um, usually. I guess. Why?" He suddenly looked somewhat guilty. It was a new expression on that face, she noted.

"I thought so." He scratched idly at his cheek. "If something happened to it that made it look weird, you would be upset, then."

Ayase stopped walking. For a moment, she considered that maybe a bird had pooped on her head when she wasn't paying attention. Either that or there was a bug in her hair. Either _that_, or it was a thinly veiled threat from the boy—but he wasn't the type to do that. "Huh?"

The boy sighed. Then, reluctantly, he confessed his troubles. "I cut Namie's bangs too short."

_Oh._ The girl's shoulders, which had tensed up a bit before, drooped in relief. She resumed walking. He was talking about his sister—she hadn't yet met the girl, but she'd seen her from a distance. "Oh my. Just_ how_ short?" He indicated the length against his hitai-ate and the Hyuuga grimaced.

"That's what I thought. But she said it was fine. She wasn't upset at all."

"I definitely would be." Ayase muttered. She'd been incredibly distraught when her older sister cut her hair into a style that was much too short and boyish for her tastes when she'd been younger.

Minato frowned thoughtfully. "This morning, she was quick to get rid of me when I dropped her off at the Academy. And she didn't hug me like usual, so…I think she's mad after all. What do I do?"

By now, their other teammate noticed the gap in the group's formation. He slowed his pace and waited for the others to come within hearing range. "What's up?"

Ayase shrugged. "Just some sibling troubles, Ginta."

"Egh," the civilian-raised boy grimaced, hunching his shoulders. He was an only child and couldn't relate to that situation at all, but he did have an insatiable curiosity and penchant for being nosy, so he pried. "What'd you do, Minato?"

The dark-haired girl snickered at the blind implication that it was the blond's fault, and said boy's eyebrows drew together slightly. Ayase was about to reply when it took Minato a beat too long, but their leader's call caused them to look forwards.

"Hey, what's the hold up?" Jiraiya had noticed when the formation began to bend, but there was no immediate danger in the area. He let the kids be because it was a rarity for them to be interacting. Sure, their teamwork was decent and they were a good group of genin—particularly that diamond in the rough, Minato (rookie of the year and a genius from a non-clan shinobi family—he hadn't been disappointed yet)—but they lacked a social bond. The past year-and-a-half they'd spent together hadn't developed in that direction yet. Maybe it was because he lacked the time to arrange team events outside of missions, since he was often needed on the frontlines as one of the Sannin, but it seemed the war was finally winding down—it had been, since his team's fight with Hanzo a handful of years ago. He wouldn't be surprised if it ended within the year.

Then, he would have the time to properly raise his team and take them to the chuunin exams. They were certainly ready.

He cast a glance over his shoulder and came to a stop as he waited for his students to catch up.

Ginta grinned, showing a gap where one of his front teeth was missing, "Sensei! Minato messed up!"

Ayase swiftly whopped him on the back of his head before quickly elaborating, "He just wants to know how to apologize to a girl, Jiraiya-sensei."

"Oh! Girl troubles, huh?" Now _this_ was his area of expertise. He set his hand on the blond's shoulder and nodded thoughtfully. It probably had to do with that hot-blooded Uzumaki girl—he'd seen how often his student watched her. It was an obvious crush. "It's something every man encounters, sooner or later." He said sagely. "So, just how badly did you mess up, kid?"

Before Ayase could intercede, Minato answered. "I tried to cut Namie's hair and really messed it up."

Oh. This wasn't just about a girl—it was his sister. Jiraiya was suddenly out of his comfort zone. He glanced towards the sole kunoichi.

Seeing the way her teacher's goofy grin dropped, Ayase sighed. It looked like it was up to her after all. "If you really want to make it up to her, get her a cute hair ribbon or something that'll take attention away from the problem area."

The three males stared at her.

Ginta was the first to speak. "Is that why you wear your hair like that, Ayase? To take attention away from your ears—" his question was met with another whop to the head.

'_Boys_,' she groused.

* * *

Once the entrance ceremony came to a close, the students were dismissed for the day. They were to be present for class at eight in the morning, prepared with the materials that were listed in the handout packets.

Aside from sparring matches and practical skill lessons, Namie knew that the next four years were going to be the most tedious part of her young second life. Interacting with children…being lectured on rudimentary subjects again (but the history lessons may prove interesting)…and having to sit through long hours in a schoolroom.

She'd hoped her school days ended the moment she graduated with a bachelor's degree.

To that end, she wondered just how many lessons she would be able to skip.

After leaving the Academy grounds, Namie took to wandering around the village since there was no one to go home to.

It wasn't often she found herself with the opportunity to do so. When she turned five, Taji and Minato both deemed her old enough and responsible enough to go out on her own, but she never traveled far since there was nowhere to go. All of what she needed was within their apartment.

She never realized just how huge Konoha was.

Behind the Academy loomed the Hokage Mountain—she was accustomed to seeing it with up to five faces, but the fact that it only contained the first three Hokages served as a reminder of when exactly she was. What she planned to do.

Her travels had taken her closer to this area, but upon actually viewing the monument, she stopped to take in the sight.

In her previous life, she hadn't gotten around much. She was practically a hikikomori in her own town. If she ever had the chance to see Mount Rushmore, she imagined it would be something like this. Large-scale and impressive stone faces, with accurate, proportional ratios to their human counterparts. Her inner art-appreciator couldn't help but stare in awe.

If she didn't currently have a goal in this world, she would want to seek out the sculptors (she wondered, were they civilians? Shinobi with a side job?) and beg for an apprenticeship.

But, that wasn't who she was anymore. With some regret, Namie tore her eyes away from the stone visages and continued walking. It wasn't until she neared one of the local parks that another interesting sight caused her to stop in her tracks.

That scarlet hair was as effective as a flashing neon sign.

_Uzumaki Kushina._

She, like Minato, now wore a hitai-ate around her forehead. Namie wasn't sure what the woman's ranking had been past being the village's jinchuuriki for the Ninetails, but at the very least she was a genin.

And, just as the last time she'd set eyes on the girl, she was fired up over being teased about her hair.

'_Jeez, do those kids ever learn?'_ The blonde scoffed to herself, putting a hand on her hip as she watched the scene. '_No, rather, maybe they just like her.' _Even though she'd been a kid once before, she still didn't quite understand how their minds worked. But, schoolyard bullying between opposite genders was a form of affection, wasn't it? A twisted one, but…some kids were just stupid.

Whatever it was, the boy who was hassling Kushina was suddenly grabbed, and hoisted into the air—

Kushina arched over into a backbend, carrying the boy in a backwards arc and slamming him into the ground upside down—

'_Holy shit. That was a German suplex.'_ Namie's jaw unhinged. '_Or whatever it's called here. But…damn._ _I want to learn that!'_ Unbeknownst to the girl, she'd spoken this last part out loud. She only realized it when the redhead's eyes darted towards her, still set in a glare from the encounter with the annoying kid.

Upon seeing the small blonde child, Kushina was forced to do a double take. She looked strikingly similar to that girly-boy she'd attended the Academy with. But, no. This kid was way too young, plus she was actually a _girl. _Not only that—what was with her bangs?! Kushina was the last person who would tease a girl about her hair, of all things, but…poor kid.

"What was that?" The redhead asked sharply, swiping a hand across her nose aggressively.

Namie replied almost mechanically, "Teach me that."

"_Huh?_" Kushina replied blankly, glare shifting into a confused frown. What a _weird_ kid. Didn't she know who she was? Plus, what kind of child just wandered up to someone after seeing something violent and asked that?

Namie crossed her arms as she surveyed the girl. She was a firecracker, there was no doubt about that. It was strange, when she thought about it. Just how did she manage to get herself kidnapped when she had so much energy and strength?

The child wasn't perturbed by her behavior at all, Kushina noted. She couldn't deny that she was flattered someone was taking such an interest in her and not being scared away, but that look in her eyes was a little unsettling. She put her hands on her hips in a semi-reprimanding manner. "No way, kid. I don't think your parents would like that." Her eyes skimmed over the familiar-colored scrolls in the girl's arms. "Don't you have a class to get to? Scram!"

'_She's so prickly.'_ Namie laughed internally as her lips pulled back into a small grin. '_Hell if I don't like her a lot more than I thought I would, though. She's…cool.' _

"What's your name, onee-san?"

"Eh?" Kushina stopped short again, taken by surprise. "Uzu," she started hesitantly, but then pushed forwards and declared her name loudly, "Uzumaki Kushina! Remember it, kid! I'm gonna be this village's first female Hokage, dattebane!" She thumped one of her fists against her chest and grinned proudly.

Namie barely kept herself from gasping. She covered her mouth with both hands. '_So this is who Naruto takes after!'_ The similarity was clear, down to the verbal tic. '_I certainly wouldn't be against having her as a future sister-in-law, but,'_ Namie glanced towards the girl thoughtfully, and felt a guilty pang in her chest.

She shook her head to clear those uncertain thoughts and smirked. "So, are you gonna teach me that move or not, Kushina-onee-san?"

The fiery girl opened her mouth to speak, but then quickly shifted gears. "Hey, wait, what's with that? Don't you need to give your name, too?"

"I dunno. Do I?"

Ah. What a brat. Kushina grit her teeth and scratched at her head. "It's…you know, manners." She clarified. '_Actually, the kid should've given her name first,'_ she corrected herself. '_Just who raised this girl?'_

"Then, it's Namie." The younger girl conceded.

"Namie-chan, huh?" The older girl muttered. She was impressed by the way the girl was holding her ground. Most others would have been scared off by her gruff demeanor. If she didn't suspect otherwise, she would have pegged the child for being an oblivious idiot. But she was pushy and arrogant, and it sort of rubbed her the wrong way. Who liked being bossed around by a kid half her age?

But…it was the first time a kid had openly showed such interest in her and admired her violent attacks. And she hadn't made fun of her hair—at least, not yet.

Kushina crossed her arms and stepped towards the girl as she came to a decision. When she stopped a mere foot away from the child, she didn't shy away, and merely stared up at the redhead expectantly. "Okay, fine. But, under two conditions." The genin held up two fingers and sent the girl a stern look. "One: don't _ever_ make fun of my hair. And two: it's onee-_chan_, not _–san. _Got it?"

The blonde slowly nodded, and smiled brightly. "Got it!"

The redhead opened her mouth to respond, but by then the boy she'd beaten earlier was starting to come to. Both of the girls cast a glance towards said genin and then looked back to each other. "Aha, well—meet me here tomorrow after your classes are done, okay brat? See ya!"

The girl was already charging down the street before Namie could blink.

Said girl also evacuated the scene, but at a much slower pace. It all seemed so surreal. She'd gotten caught up in the redheaded firecracker's hot-blooded pace, but everything was winding down and reality was setting in once more.

'_Did I just…become the Red-Hot Habanero's disciple?'_

* * *

The idle chatter between teammates didn't last long, no, they weren't that kind of group. For there to be any sort of conversation, there had to be a point, a goal, a question to be answered. Naturally, they passively listened to their leader's constant babble, sparing only few responses, but mostly Team Jiraiya remained silent and vigilant—with the occasional, upbeat humming from Ginta.

They continued the rest of the mission in proper formation, keeping on the lookout and counting the moments until they arrived at the site of the merchant's abandoned cart.

It didn't take much longer until they located it.

Jiraiya had them stop a few kilometers from their destination as Ayase scanned the area with her Byakugan for any signs of the bandits. It was a quiet day and no others were around, it seemed. Only the broken-down cart sat within the area, nestled into the trees growing at the edge of the pathway and tilted at a slight angle, beat-down and abandoned.

"Who'd want a shabby thing like that back?" Ginta grumbled, scratching at his head in confusion.

"Who knows. Some merchants get emotionally attached to their wagons." Jiraiya shrugged, beckoning the team forwards. "Though it would be considerably cheaper to just purchase a new one if the damage was extensive. This one's still useable, if not worse for the wear. It's probably been in the family for years or something."

"Whatever the case, there's _nothing_ in it." Ayase observed, pursing her lips. "The bandits really cleaned it out."

"Wonder what the cargo was," Minato muttered. It was strange. Something seemed out of place, but he couldn't figure out just what.

Ginta was the first to approach the cart and he peered inside once he was close enough. "It is, it's really empty. Nothing left behind. Don't you think the bandits would leave useless stuff behind?"

"Unless whatever was being carried wasn't useless." The blond added.

"_Ginta,_ don't get so close," the Hyuuga girl admonished her teammate before he could put hands on the wooden sideboards. "There is something weird about it, though. Right, Jiraiya-sensei?"

"Hmm, well, in most cases, the thieves would probably just keep the cart to transport their loot." The sannin rubbed his chin as he eyed the object in question. "So the fact that they left it here at all is odd."

"There doesn't seem to be any sign of struggle." Minato noted as he surveyed the grounds. "The wheel tracks are faint now, but they lead directly to the current position. They're not smeared at all."

"There's no footprints, either!" Ginta piped up.

"Well, if they were shinobi-trained bandits, there wouldn't be," Ayase pointed out plainly. "But the merchant described them as rough-and-tumble types. Barbarians. So that is something to consider." She glanced up at the white-haired jounin. "We need to check it."

"Traps, huh…?" Jiraiya mused, catching the dark-haired girl's eye. As usual, he was pleased with their teamwork and analysis. Ginta was the one who typically—and recklessly—jumped in headfirst without considering danger, but Ayase was the natural-born leader and mother hen that kept him in check. Minato usually caught what the others didn't notice and filled in the gaps where the others lacked.

Naturally, he'd been aware of the strange nature of the request since they'd been chosen for the mission. For a merchant to want his cart back after being attacked, there had to be something considerably important about the vehicle. Otherwise he would be happy to have escaped with his life and leave everything else behind. "Did you see anything with your doujutsu earlier?"

Ayase shook her head. "No, but…seeing through objects is a little difficult sometimes. And if there's a barrier seal—a really clever one—I wouldn't be able to tell at all."

"I'll check it for a seal and remove it if it's present." Jiraiya confirmed.

"Why would it be trapped if it's empty?" Ginta complained, looking doubtful. "I think we should just take it back and get it over with."

The moment Jiraiya moved to examine the cart and the civilian boy smacked his hand against the sturdy sideboards, distracting Ayase, Minato yelled out to alert them. "_Sensei!_ Enemy sighted at two o'clock!"

The next instant was chaos.

A dozen shuriken whistled through the air from one side, and half a dozen kunai shot by from the other, followed shortly by a strangled cry from Ginta.

The Toad Sage quickly deflected the shuriken and rushed forward to meet the greater threat while simultaneously shouting orders at his three genin to handle their end.

After repelling the airborne weapons from the proximity of his teammates with a kunai, Minato turned back and hurried towards the second source of pandemonium. "What happened?"

Ginta wheezed and writhed in the dirt beside the wagon. Three kunai were embedded deeply into his chest and oozing red, and one pinned his shoulder. Ayase crouched over him, intent on removing the blades and healing what she could. "_It _was_ trapped._" She bit out as her hands flared up with the gentle green chakra of the Mystical Palm. "I _told_ him not to touch it!"

"The kunai—?"

"It looks like one hit a vital area. I—I'm not sure I can do much, Minato." There was an uncertain tremor to her voice.

Minato cast a glance towards their sensei, who was engaging the enemy—the lone enemy—and briefly scanned the area to ensure there were no more surprises in wait.

"There's no one else," Ayase assured him, Byakugan activated. "It's just one enemy. But," again, her words failed her as she scanned her teammate's body, noting that one kunai had punctured his lung and no amount of her level of healing would help it.

"Just worry about Ginta, Ayase. I'll handle any stray attacks." The civilian boy let out a wet cough and blood trickled from his mouth. "He's—"

"I'll do what I can!"

They'd faced injuries before, they'd faced danger—but none that had ambushed them as suddenly as this. Ginta's life was hanging within the balance and they were reacting the best they could—yet there wasn't much that could be done.

Minato crouched in a defensive posture, kunai gripped in hand, as he guarded his teammates.

However, Jiraiya made short work of the enemy, quickly knocking him out of commission. He hadn't aimed to kill the man, because he could provide useful information on this strange mission, so he opted to take him back to Konoha for interrogation. He quickly summoned storage toads which consumed the enemy nin as well as the strange cart for quick transportation back to the village, and as soon as that task was set he rushed to his genins' side.

His jaw set as he scanned the scene. It was painful to look at. He'd witnessed countless casualties and injuries on the warfront, but these…these were just _kids._ Genin. _His_ genin. He was responsible for them and to see one in such a wretched state was borderline traumatizing.

Ayase's hands were bloodied from extracting the kunai from her temmate's body and applying pressure to keep certain wounds shut. Her Mystical Palm had done all that it could, but no one on the team was a skilled medic. He quickly intervened, taking a roll of bandages from the Hyuuga girl, and set to work on applying makeshift tourniquets. "What—what's the damage?"

"Ginta's lung was punctured badly. We need to get him to the hospital right away, Sensei." Minato was the one to speak—Ayase was shaken terribly and nothing the blond could do would comfort her. Though he was usually collected and calm, his voice trembled.

Once the boy was in a state to be moved, Jiraiya carefully hefted him up and into his hold. "We'll run. Help Ayase and keep an eye out for all of us."

Minato nodded. "Right."

* * *

The aftermath of the mission was a mess.

The enemy ninja had been thoroughly interrogated by T&I. The merchant who requested the mission was taken into custody and questioned as well, but cracked quickly and easily.

It was discovered that, due to war times, illegal weapons trade became a popular occupation and a certain group of civilians within the village engaged in such dealings. Apparently, escort missions were too expensive to file and carrying arms was a cheaper option. In order to introduce the weapons into Konoha without any trouble, a scheme had been hatched to have local shinobi bring the cargo past the gates since they had the privilege of skipping inspection.

It could have been clever, had the situation been handled differently. When ninja from the border towns, where defenses were weak, caught wind of the newly risen trade business, they took it upon themselves to obtain the weapons for use in the war. For this reason, merchants had taken to concealing their stocks within the hollow spaces of their traveling carts and covering them with seals and traps to prevent theft.

Belatedly, because of these circumstances, its rank had been promoted to B.

Ginta's status was touch-and-go the moment his team returned him to the village. He was immediately carted to the emergency room for treatment and, after hours of surgery, was placed in recovery and watched over carefully.

It was a grave injury and, even if he managed to pull through, there was doubt that his lung would ever completely heal.

Minato and Ayase intended to remain at the hospital, at their teammate's side, but Jiraiya strictly insisted that they return home to rest for the time being.

The sun had sunken well past the horizon when the blond arrived at his apartment. Taji was still away on her mission, and as usual, Namie was waiting up alone for her brother to return.

"Brother!" The little blonde girl chirped as she greeted him at the door. Her countenance was cheerful, but there was a crease between her eyebrows. "I thought you would have been home by dinner."

Minato smiled apologetically as he entered the house, and set his hand upon the girl's head as he passed her by. "Sorry, Namie. We," he paused, but only briefly, "ran into some trouble."

Though he looked exhausted as he usually did when he returned from missions, the look on his face was forced, she noticed. He was always so good at keeping up a neutral expression that this change was unsettling. Whatever had happened with his team, it was definitely something to worry about.

Namie's eyes followed her brother's form as he removed his shoes and ambled down the hallway. His shoulders were tense.

'_Something is wrong.'_ The smile dropped from her face as she stepped after him a little hesitantly. "I warmed up some leftovers, but—they're probably cold again by now. I'll heat them up again?"

"Thanks, Namie. But I'm going to take a bath first. I'll eat when I'm done." He mentioned gently, casting her another strange smile as he continued down the hallway, towards the bath.

It was then that she caught sight of the dried flecks of blood on his clothing. _'Something happened. What? What happened?'_ A painful sting of curiosity and uncertainty nagged at her, yet she couldn't find the courage to outright confront him. Instead, all she could manage was a vague smile of her own. "R…right. I'll wait for you." Without another word, she left him to his own devices and wandered to the kitchen.

Namie's hands trembled as she tapped down the heating button on the rice cooker.

She knew. She knew that being a shinobi was dangerous business. People died in the line of duty constantly—and they also killed. Friends, comrades, enemies. They always said that the first kill was a defining moment in the life of a ninja, and witnessing a first death was, as well. Something detrimental like that must have occurred, for him to behave in such a way.

'_There's nothing I can do.'_ Namie thought grimly. _'I don't want him to get hurt, but…I can't stop it.'_

She knew what he would become, what he would grow to be—encountering difficult and awful situations was necessary to build character. It wouldn't end here.

'_This is the kind of world I live in now. The kind of world we live in.'_

If only Taji were home. She could handle this situation; she was experienced in the matter. But Namie? She was a civilian at heart and an Academy student in the present. She'd never killed a person in her two lives and she'd never even seen someone die.

'_I didn't think something like this would happen so soon. And here I was, so happy that I'd met Kushina…I wanted to tell him about it.'_ Her brow furrowed. _'I never even think about what he might come across during his missions. I guess I put too much faith in Jiraiya and—maybe I'm a little naïve. I'm too naïve.'_

It wasn't until the two children were sitting down to eat that Namie was able to say what she wanted.

"Did something bad happen, Brother?" She asked in an undertone, barely over a mutter, as she picked at the rice in her bowl. "You—" her voice caught. When he'd met her gaze, blue eyes locking with blue, he briefly looked as if he wanted to cry.

'_No, don't. Please don't cry.'_ Her teeth bit into her lip.

Minato carefully set down his chopsticks and rubbed at the back of his neck—a habit of agitation. Namie was perceptive, but he wavered on whether or not he should share the story. She was still young. Telling her about the ugly nature of a shinobi's life, even if she was on the pathway to becoming one, seemed too unkind. That, and he wasn't completely certain that he could explain it without becoming an emotional wreck. He didn't want to worry her.

She was still young, and didn't deserve heavy burdens on her small shoulders. But at the same time, she was shrewd and would definitely notice when he was avoiding the subject. She would pry—she was naturally curious. But more than that, she was concerned.

In the end, being honest with her was best, even if it was cruel. Sugar-coating the world of shinobi was just something that shouldn't be done.

His eyes lowered as he spoke. "Ginta was injured during the mission. He might not make it." As much as that sentence hurt, saying it was a great relief. Holding the grief inside was almost too much to bear.

Namie's eyes widened as the weight of the sentence registered. She'd never personally met Ginta, or any of her brother's team, but she knew how important they were to him and she could understand the impact. "Brother…"

He shook his head and looked up. "But I guess only time will tell. I'm going to see him tomorrow, with Ayase."

There. He'd set up his shinobi mask again, concealing his emotions. Namie wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

Minato's eyes drifted briefly towards his sister's bangs and his eyebrows furrowed. "How was your first day of school?" He asked with a slight grin.

"Oh, it…it was fine." Namie replied. The tense atmosphere from before had melted away, but the underlying problem hadn't disappeared. She wondered if this was the way of life for shinobi. Taji often buried away her feelings, too, she'd noticed.

They were all so strong. This was who they were born to be.

As for her? She had no idea. She was a child. She was weak.

'_There are some things I can't do.'_

* * *

**A/N: **Wow this didn't take a happy turn now did it? Umm let's see. I made up Minato's teammates because who the hell even knows who they are. And Kushina and Jiraiya showed up! He was a little hard to write but I hope I did him justice. As for Kushina, I always have a total blast writing scenes with her.

And about who will be on Namie's genin team in the future? That's a secret! It will be revealed in chapter 16 in current plans. I know things are going slow but this is the stage where everything is getting set up.

This chapter is actually a big step for me because I usually don't get past posting four chapters of any of my stories _ever_. It's in part due to all your reviews/faves/watches/reads so thank you for your continued support (I hope these constant 'thank you's don't get annoying)!


	6. Five: School Days, False Start

Namie fiddled with the end of one of her braids as she stared vacantly towards the front of the classroom.

Minato's kunoichi teammate—Ayano or Aya-something, she recalled vaguely—had come to meet him that morning so they could visit Ginta together. The Hyuuga brought news that the boy's health was in stable condition, though there were murmurs of his future career as a shinobi being at risk. It was reminiscent of Rock Lee's situation during the chuunin exams when he faced Gaara.

From what little she gathered while walking partway through the village with the duo until they went their separate ways, it was a fairly common occurrence among ranked ninja. Critical injuries often resulted in unreliable conditions that could endanger entire missions, so those that received such injuries either retired from the field and worked petty jobs within the village or underwent rehabilitation that was rarely successful. It seemed they ended up at the same place regardless.

In other words, when a ninja was no longer able to perform as a ninja, they were essentially demoted to civilian level. They were useless.

Neither knew of the outcome their teammate would face, but Namie figured that Ginta would most likely be a genin forever, working the missions desk in the Hokage's building until he got sick of it.

The girl slowly stirred from her thoughts as a loud sneeze from one of her classmates sounded. She'd taken up residence in the set of desks at the very back of the room, close to the window—it was the first time she'd ever had the opportunity to take _that_ special seat in a classroom, so she wasn't going to give it up to someone less worthy. From there, she could see practically all of the other eleven students in the classroom. Suzume was sitting attentively at the front, of course, because she just seemed the obsequious type.

But sitting in the far side of the room meant she would be exposed to the class slackers, too. To her right, the Inuzuka she'd met before was idly doodling on the edges of his notes scroll.

The only thing that was particularly intriguing about him was the accessory that tagged along at his heels: a small, cocoa-brown ninken with pointed ears. It snoozed beside him on the bench, and occasionally kicked out a hind leg when something disturbed it in dreamland.

'_Cute…'_ Namie sighed longingly at the sight, seeing a small, grinning black dog in her mind's eye as fleeting memories from her other life surfaced. She usually did her best to suppress bittersweet thoughts of the Other Side, because it was a place she could never return to. She didn't even know if her former friends and family were still alive—didn't want to know. Living between two lives was draining, so she turned the majority of her focus towards her current life. Even so, it was impossible to completely erase her old feelings and experiences.

The chuunin instructor who stood near the chalkboard monotonously drawled on about something mathematical that Namie had mastered and had been well-able to use for several years. It was the same with writing lessons—Taji had started her on kanji a few months before she entered the academy, so she had a considerable lead on her peers.

It had been explained during orientation that the basic curriculum was staggered, alternating between weekdays. The first, third and fifth days would cover core textbook lessons, while the second, fourth and sixth days would cover the practical ninjutsu, genjutsu and taijutsu lessons—along with kunoichi classes for the girls. The seventh day was always a day of rest and then the cycle restarted. It sounded like a heavy workload for children, but it was necessary to build up a sturdy base of knowledge in order to improve later on.

Unfortunately, today was one of those boring days that covered a great majority of what Namie already knew. The only lessons that held particular value for her were geography and history, since most of Konoha and the rest of the ninja world was largely unknown to her.

"Pssst, hey," a low voice hissed nearby. Namie chose to ignore it, thinking it was some of the slackers being irritating, until the kid added, "girl with the funny bangs!"

'_Ah, there it is.'_ The blonde pursed her lips. So far, she'd been able to avoid being teased for her bad haircut since she stayed out of everyone's way, but it was only a matter of time before one of her classmates thought to draw attention to it. She turned an unimpressed stare towards the Inuzuka and raised an eyebrow.

Seeing that the girl was acknowledging him, the boy continued to speak. "Do you have an extra scroll I can borrow? Mine's at the end."

'_So that's why he was drawing instead,'_ Namie observed coolly, eyebrows scrunching together in irritation. She shrugged and shook her head. "No."

Even if she was bored, it didn't mean she wanted to be _bothered._

"Seriously? You have three right there."

"Should've come prepared." She grumbled, moving her note scrolls to the other side of the desk when the kid had the audacity to reach out for one.

"Come on, it's just _one_," he hissed, frowning in such a way that one of his sharp canines was poking out past his lips. "I'll…" he glanced around, then when his gaze landed on his ninken partner, he returned his gaze to the blonde. "I'll let you pet Kurocha! His fur's reeeeaaally soft."

Hearing this, Namie went still. She eyed the puppy uncertainly out of the corner of her eye and pressed her lips together. By now, he was resting on his back with his soft pink underbelly facing skyward.

"No way." The girl finally decided, sticking firmly with her resolve. She waved her hand dismissively at her desk mate, then rested her chin on her hand as she busied herself with looking out the window.

"Stingy strawhead!" The russet-haired boy accused, perhaps a little louder than necessary. The moment Namie turned to scowl at him, their teacher paused mid-sentence and eyed them with mild disdain.

"Is something wrong, Toboe, Namie?" He sighed, rubbing at his forehead beneath his hitai-ate with an exasperated expression. It was only the _first_ day of classes, and there was already an interruption. He certainly hoped these two wouldn't end up becoming problem children.

Namie's face colored as she bit her lip and wrenched her head back to the window, ignoring both her classmate and teacher. '_How humiliating…mind your own business, both of you.'_

Toboe, on the other hand, meekly shook his head. "No, Yuuichi-sensei."

With one last reprimanding look at the pair that just _dared_ them to cause trouble, the chuunin returned to the lesson.

* * *

Finally, after the long, grueling day was over, Namie rushed towards the door, eager to meet up with Kushina.

She would have made it past her desk, too, if not for the leg that shot out in front of her feet the moment she took a step forwards. With the momentum from flinging her body out of the chair, along with the intent to run, she wasn't able to catch herself during the fall and smashed unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor with a quiet grunt. The impact made such a noise that even Suzume at the front of the room turned to see what had caused it.

A loud, obnoxious laugh sounded from above. She didn't even need to look to know it was Inuzuka Toboe. Namie moved to her knees and rubbed at her chin to ease away the throbbing sting. She checked her teeth to make sure they were still connected to the gums—one of her baby teeth had been wiggling lately, so she was worried it might have been knocked out—and they were.

"Wow. Your reflexes are really bad, Strawhead," the boy observed.

Slowly, the girl grasped the edge of the closest desk and hauled herself to her feet before sending a glower at the boy. The notion to curl her fingers into his short, messy ponytail and bang his head against the desktop briefly crossed her mind, but she had to remind herself that she was _much_ too old to be fighting with a six-year-old. '_I don't need to be another Kushina,'_ Namie consoled herself grimly. But, she wasn't going to put up with this if it turned into habitual bullying.

Without a word, Namie headed to the door. She heard the boy scoff and grumble something under his breath, but by then she'd already set foot in the hallway.

'_He's just the type of brat I hate,'_ Namie groused internally, '_why the hell did I have to get put in the same class as him?'_ She rubbed at her chin again, noting that it would probably bruise.

The park was empty when she arrived.

She'd certainly considered the possibility that Kushina would have forgotten her agreement—the girl _did_ seem a bit scatterbrained. For that reason, the blonde was only mildly disappointed.

Then, briefly—like a lightning bolt to the heart—Namie realized that _this_ could be the day Kushina was kidnapped by the group of Kumo nin. Her heart began to beat erratically and her breath came in short pulls as the pressure settled in. She glanced around the area sharply, just to be completely certain she hadn't overlooked that vibrant red hair. No. It was impossible to miss _that._

'_What do I do?_ _What do I do?'_ Namie tried to calm her nerves, but they were just out of her control. The words were churning around in her head and a cold sweat seeped its way across her skin.

'_This is it. This is one of those crucial turning points. Minato was the only one who realized she was missing at first, right*****? If he hasn't noticed it yet, then…'_ The gears within her mind were turning, whirring, yet simultaneously standing still. '_What happens if I try to stop him? What happens if Kumo gains custody of an Uzumaki? What if Konoha never gets the next jinchuuriki back? Who becomes the next host?'_

She was standing at a bleak crossroads, evaluating both possible routes to her plan in a state of sheer panic. At this time, only a loop of questions occurred to her. Thinking on future ramifications was nigh impossible.

In essence, all it would really take was a simple flip of a coin to decide. Fate was not fixed, and there was no set path in _this_ world. The chance to change everything was at her fingertips and the notion to play god with that malleable chain of events was tempting.

But, could she handle those repercussions if—no, _when_, because it was inevitable—it all fell apart? What was done could not be _un_done. Time flowed only in one direction.

It was too soon.

_It was too much._

All of that mental preparation she'd set up was useless, because, being faced with the immediate option to alter reality was a far cry from visualizing it from a safe distance.

She recalled how powerless she'd been when Minato experienced that painful event during a mission. Some things were out of her control, out of her reach—

There was so, _so_ much she wanted to do, yet was unable.

'_I can't handle this.'_

A muffled sob forced its way past Namie's lips as she threaded her fingers through her hair and pressed her knuckles against her scalp.

The burden was far too heavy.

She couldn't do _anything._ _This_ wasn't what she was meant to do—_couldn't_ do.

She (just like the rest) was a slave to the predetermined timeline. The most she could do was heckle it as it passed on by, like an irritated spectator. View it as it happened, but never change it, because _what could a six-year-old girl do?_

No. She wasn't a _girl_. She was an adult woman. But she was so painfully _normal_ and _useless_ that she may as well have been a child.

'_Why am I here? What's my purpose? Do I even _have _one?'_

Reason slipped from her grasp in perfect sync with the tears that began to drip down her blanched cheeks.

Then, something frightfully red zipped past her line of vision.

With the quiet sound of soles hitting the sandy ground, the confused-concerned face of Uzumaki Kushina was immediately in Namie's personal space, and a hand was set nervously upon her shoulder.

"H-hey, don't cry. Don't cry! I wasn't going to ditch you or anything, 'ttebane!" The redhead spoke so rapidly that she nearly jumbled her words. "I was just gonna…" Her violet eyes had wandered towards the tree she jumped from only moments before, but seeing the state the girl was in, she decided against explaining her reasons.

Namie's eyes were wide in wonder and her lips were pressed together to keep them from wobbling. The redheaded girl kneeling before her was speaking, but whatever she said eluded the girl. Her head was swimming and her ears were plugged with water.

Slowly, the world came back into focus.

"Kushina-nee-chan," the blonde murmured with a stuffy sniffle, raising a hand to wipe her eyes dry. "You're late."

The Uzumaki girl's helpless expression crumbled in immense relief. She did take a moment to warily eye the girl, but when the child didn't show any signs of relapsing, she straightened and set her hands on her hips. "Hey hey, the _boss_ is the one who determines that. Now don't go turning into a mushy crybaby on me, 'kay Namie-brat? I made good on my promise."

"You did." Namie pulled a small grin, which came off as more exhausted than cocky, as she rubbed her cheeks with her hands, filling them with their normal color once again.

'_That was an awful freak-out. I'm embarrassed.'_ She lowered her hands to the hem of her long shirt and kneaded it between her fingers as she kept her eyes glued to the ground. '_I'll have to work on that...'_

"So, you wanna learn some of my awesome moves, huh?" Kushina took a moment to survey the area. "You'll need to build up to 'em. Guess I'll have to train you."

Namie peeked up at the redhead, eyes narrowed slightly. "That's not necessary. I think my current training's prepared me enough."

"Oh yeah?" Kushina tried, raising an eyebrow. For a scrawny kid who barely reached her elbows in height, she sure had a big way of talking. "I'll be the judge of that!" She hummed thoughtfully and tapped a finger to her lip before grinning widely. "Probably…you should run ten laps around the park, then come back and do a round of a hundred push-ups! If you don't come up wheezing, sure, I'll teach you right away!"

Namie only barely faltered at the boisterous demands. '_Not good…my stamina isn't that great. I don't have even a quarter of the ridiculous energy reserves this girl has. But, well, I can't expect any less from an Uzumaki.'_ She assessed the circumference of the park with a brief glance before nodding slowly. Her maximum record was one slow lap around half of Konoha, but even that was pushing her near her limits. But for such a small area, she felt somewhat confident. "Yeah…you're on, Kushina-nee-chan."

Without another word, the small blonde set off at a light jogging pace.

She collapsed to the dirt unceremoniously on her thirty-eighth push-up, chest heaving. "Damn," her eyes clenched shut as she hissed out a curse. _'I overestimated this body. But, seriously, all this just to learn a German suplex? What's next, training with bears in the forest?'_ She didn't even know if bears were native to the area, but she wouldn't put it past the red-hot girl to try. With a little difficulty due to her trembling arms, Namie rolled herself over onto her back and stared up at the darkening sky.

Kushina's smug face soon entered her field of vision, blocking the sun. "That's what I thought!"

Namie would have scoffed at the older girl's gloating, but barely had the strength to manage a scowl.

Then, a hand was extended to her prone form. "Come on. You can still stand, right?"

Almost idly, the blonde accepted Kushina's hand. The girl's fingers gripped hers firmly as she hauled her up with little mercy to her exhausted body. Namie stumbled only once, then regained her balance and took a deep breath. "I was close."

The redhead nodded vigorously. "You were! But, y'know, the deal was a hundred push-ups, Namie-brat. I'm not tellin' you _anything_ 'til you survive that."

"You're a slave driver." Namie accused moodily. "Do you know I'm only six years old?"

"Hah!" Kushina guffawed loudly as she put her hands on her hips. "I was doing more than that at your age! It's easy as pie! Just watch, 'ttebane!"

Before Namie could protest, the redhead was already tearing off across the grounds. Then, when she completed the ten short laps, she dropped to the ground, "Look, one hand!" and proceeded to complete a set of one-hundred push-ups on one hand only. Without breaking a sweat, or coming up even remotely worn when she was done.

Namie sighed. "Amazing." Maybe the older girl just didn't realize a six year age advantage and the unrivaled vitality from her lineage gave her a considerable lead. Still, though, it was somewhat awe-inspiring to see the crazy redhead in action. And a little encouraging.

Kushina popped back up on her feet and grinned. "Better believe it!" Her eyes wandered up towards the sunset and she sighed. "Well, that's it for today. I'm busy tomorrow, but come back the day after next."

"Ah, okay." Namie agreed, nodding. To be honest, she was relieved.

"Right. I'm expecting to see some improvement!"

"Right, right. See you, Kushina-nee-chan." She waved the older girl off with a tired gesture and slowly plodded home.

For the next two weeks, the pair met a handful of times. Unfortunately for Namie, taijutsu classes wore on her strength and her stamina level was still low. She wasn't any closer to learning that move she'd stupidly demanded to be taught, but at the very least she enjoyed spending time with the red-hot firecracker of a kunoichi.

Probably, Uzumaki Kushina was the closest thing to a friend she had. And she suspected it went both ways even though it was never directly acknowledged.

Eventually, Namie came to the conclusion that there was no way she could attempt to botch the timeline in such a way that it would harm the health or happiness of her young mentor. She was a good girl, with a good heart, who deserved the happiness she would have with her future husband and son—no matter how short-lived.

And so, the choice was narrowed down to one.

* * *

**A/N:**

*****I mentioned this in the story earlier on, but Namie's foreknowledge isn't completely reliable. If she ever thinks/says something that doesn't quite match up with canon information, it's because she assumes that it's true or plausible since she has no way of checking.

I meant to upload this chapter sooner but kept putting it off since something about it was bothering me. I kept changing little things but I think what I have now works well enough. I wonder, what would you readers do if you were in Namie's position, with enough information to be able to change an entire timeline? Would you? Could you? Would it weigh on you and stress you out?

Thanks for reading/reviewing/silently supporting. I got quite a few notifications after the last chapter and they made me really happy! I can barely believe this story already has so many faves and follows.


	7. Six: Challenge, Graceless Loser

"You've been out pretty late these past few days," Taji commented in a casual manner that did well to hide her curiosity as she stirred a steaming pot of stew on the stove. "Training already?"

Namie kicked her feet back and forth as she sat on the dinner table—not appropriate in the least, but she hadn't been reprimanded yet—skinning potatoes for the simmering concoction. Her guardian had finally returned from her mission when the war's end was declared and, after dealing with a few grueling operations at the hospital, had at last found the time to relax with the two blond children.

For the calm way the older woman behaved, no one could guess that she'd seen frenzied war zones and plenty of mortally-wounded comrades, and enemies alike, give up the ghost right before her eyes. But, Namie supposed, perhaps that was what several years as a medic nin and ANBU training did to a person. Taji was likely long desensitized towards death, hiding away whatever pain and sorrow she felt beneath a placid mask. Obviously the effort of a great deal of psychological conditioning.

"Mmhm." The girl nodded. "Taijutsu." She clarified. '_Well, it's not a lie. That Kushina's really putting me through the wringer. And I used to think _Minato's _training regimen was tough.'_

"Oh? Just be sure not to push yourself too hard. Your body is still growing." The woman advised, pausing her current task to cast the girl a concerned glance.

"I know, Taji-san. I'm careful." She missed the expression completely, eyes still focused on the vegetables as she mused, _'except for that time Kushina threw me. I thought for sure I broke something.'_

The brunette's lips twitched curiously as she took a few extra moments to observe the busy girl. For a kid, she was considerably straight-laced and serious. Aside from her appearance and childish haircut (oh, she'd had a field day when she laid eyes on those _bangs_, and did her best to even them up—but no amount of help besides just patiently waiting for them to grow out would do her any good), she sometimes behaved like an adult. At times, the times she didn't simply brush off or consciously overlook the odd idiosyncrasies, it was a little jarring. "So, how are classes going?" A soft smile replaced her previous, worried frown.

Namie's lips mirrored the smile when she caught her guardian's eye. "Everything but the special kunoichi class is pretty easy, hehe." Her mouth twisted into a pout. "I just can't for the life of me keep all of the different plants and flowers straight."

"Oh, right, they start your kunoichi classes this soon, don't they?" She turned away from the stove and scratched at the loose, messy bun on her head thoughtfully. "I have a few field guides I can let you borrow. The notes are pretty extensive. You know, it's a necessity for medics to be acquainted with all sorts of herbs and flowers."

Taji was a veritable well of information. Namie didn't know where all of her scrolls, texts and guides came from, since the small room she kept in their apartment was only stocked with basic necessities, but her own living quarters must have been filled to the brim with useful reading materials. Minato must have gotten a considerable portion of his own handbooks from her as well.

"Then I guess that's not on my list of possible future careers." Namie shrugged.

Taji chuckled and opened her mouth to shoot back a reply, but postponed this when Minato ambled through the kitchen doorway with a wide yawn. "Morning, sleepyhead." The woman hummed, eyeing the boy's messier-than-usual mop of spiky hair with the intent to attack it with a comb as soon as she was given the opportunity—it was really no surprise that he was no good at handling his own hair, given how he'd unintentionally butchered his sister's.

"Sleep well, Brother?" The blonde girl added as soon as her sibling settled into one of the seats at the table. His team—with Ginta's spot filled by a fellow genin—returned from a long mission earlier that day and he'd been snoozing ever since. Probably, the smell of dinner woke him.

He scratched at the bandage plastered across his right cheek. "I did, but I didn't mean to sleep so late."

Taji waved a dismissive hand. "Restoring your energy is important, it's fine. But—since you're up and well-rested now, why don't you peel those carrots?"

For a moment, still caught up in a sleepy stupor, he looked as if he wanted to protest. "I'll help." Namie chirped as she shaved the last bit of skin from the potato in her hand. She hopped down from the table and fetched another knife from the counter before taking a seat beside her brother and separating the carrots into two piles.

Cooking was never a specific—or even_ favored_—hobby of hers, but she did enjoy the atmosphere that came about when a family came together to prepare a meal. It always added a special flavor to the food.

When Taji was away, the two children sustained themselves with mediocre take-out or subpar lukewarm leftovers, so home-cooked meals were a welcomed change.

Namie watched Minato from the corner of her eye, surveying his current condition and debating whether or not she should ask him for an after-dinner practice session. It had been quite a few days since their last match, and even though family mealtime togetherness was nice, she found that training was the best way to bond with her sibling.

Rather—training was her favored method of bonding with _anybody._ Fighting styles, manners of teaching, explaining and posturing during a sparring match all revealed more than words or attitudes could, she'd discovered, and even during her taijutsu matches at the Academy it was a curious thing to observe. She'd come to know more about a handful of her classmates through fighting than speaking—she hadn't even exchanged words with all but three of her peers. The same could be said for teachers. She slowly began to recognize when any one of the three chuunins that handled the practical class were less than enthusiastic about instructing it even when they put up a cheerful front and barreled through the lesson plan.

"Namie?"

The blonde snapped out of the stupor she hadn't been aware of and blinked at her brother. _'Ah, I was caught staring. Not very ninja-esque.'_ She brushed off her surprise and beamed winningly as she turned to fully face the boy. "Hey, hey, Brother, will you train with me after we eat? Pretty please?"

Minato's eyebrows knitted together as he regarded the girl's sunny grin with some exasperation. He was about to decline and attempt to convince her to ask again tomorrow when he had a day off to rest, but then considered that she'd halved the current chore for him—probably just for an occasion. Sometimes, he noticed, she was crafty that way.

Namie picked up on his reluctance and quickly added, "I know you're tired, but tomorrow we're having sparring matches in taijutsu class—and it's for a grade this time, not just trials! I wanna run something by you. Even if it's just for a few minutes!" She stuck out her bottom lip to a slight degree and furrowed her eyebrows.

Minato exhaled and let his shoulders slump, then caught Taji's eye and shrugged. '_What can you do?'_ He glanced back at his sister. "Alright. I can spare some time."

"Yes!" Namie cheered, pumping her fist in the air in victory—and consequently dropping the carrot she was peeling.

"Namie! Please, be a little more careful..." Taji reprimanded gently.

* * *

After nearly a month training with Kushina, Namie had finally risen to a level where the redhead would indulge her techniques. Being able to perform her version of the German suplex involved having a great deal of upper body strength and enough flexibility to execute a bridge. Namie wasn't sure how close she was to being able to pull off the completed move just yet, since they hadn't actually practiced it physically, but at the very least she had gained extra strength training and believed she was well on her way.

It was a little vain, and completely reckless, but Namie wanted to be able to perform the technique during her sparring match the next day. There was no one better than Minato to help polish the move. If she managed to succeed here, then she could definitely apply the move in a spar against her classmates.

"What did you want to show me?" The older blond asked as he followed his sister towards the embankment of a nearby canal. The training grounds were too far away for such an impromptu request, but a wide open space was perfectly adequate for whatever she had in mind, it seemed.

"Hmm…" Namie hummed as she skipped down the grassy slope before stopping where it plateaued and surveying the grounds. The immediate area was deserted, though there were a few passersby overhead on the road. She didn't mind either way. It was more nerve-wracking that perhaps her redheaded mentor might be in the vicinity to pummel her for trying the move out so soon. But given the time, she was most likely at home eating dinner. At least, she hoped. Once she was certain the redhot redhead was nowhere nearby, Namie glanced over her shoulder eagerly. "Hey Brother, can you make a kage bunshin?"

"Ah, okay." Minato nodded, and after a flash of hand signs, his presence was duplicated and he felt the immediate plummet in his chakra levels. He wasn't certain why she needed him to make a clone, but he'd long since realized that his sister didn't arbitrarily ask things if she didn't have a reason. At the very least, he wasn't so exhausted that he couldn't spare some chakra. She was wise to schedule this after dinnertime.

"Thanks." The girl surveyed the clone and its weight, center of gravity, and then considered her own aspects. "Right. If I hit it with enough power, it'll go 'poof,' right?" Her hands splayed outwards to emphasize her question.

The Minato on the left nodded, only barely containing a laugh at her animated usage of sound effects and managing an amused smile instead. "It will."

"Okay, good." She inhaled deeply, then sank into an offensive stance. "I have a new move I wanna test out."

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. This was a first. "Any rules?"

Namie pursed her lips and evaluated the strength difference between her and her brother compared to the difference between her and Kushina. Then, she briefly considered the difference between her and her classmates. "Taijutsu. Fight me with an age-appropriate strength level." In other words, hold back. There were definitely no students at the Academy with her brother's current skill level, herself included, so it was a reasonable handicap.

The older blond glanced at his shadow clone, which nodded. "Alright. Ready when you are, Namie." She'd requested this training method only once before after learning he could perform it, in order to test the strength of her hits. She wasn't able to dispel the technique with her own attack power then, but it seemed she was reasonably confident this time around.

He hung back as his clone approached the girl and adopted his own stance.

"Start!"

The girl launched forwards and ducked beneath the clone's strike, then carefully angled herself away from the reach of the kick he followed up with. "Tch," she hissed, gritting her teeth as his heel scarcely missed her. '_It's hard to get close enough, as I thought. But if I time it right, the payoff should be worth it.'_

She blocked an oncoming punch with her forearm and countered by kicking at his legs in an attempt to knock him off balance. If she timed it right and created an opening, she would be able to swing around the clone and seize him from behind to execute the technique. As long as she caught him off guard and he didn't counterbalance her weight, she could gain leverage and overthrow him. This type of technique was mind over matter with attentiveness to her body weight and positioning, similar to what Minato had taught her in regards to defense techniques. Within reason, size of the opponent didn't matter (she wasn't arrogant enough to think she could take on someone bigger than her brother).

'_Sorry, Kushina. I'm gonna go ahead with it!'_ The moment Namie moved to enact her plan, an open-palm strike clipped her on the chin.

Her teeth clacked together, reverberating almost painfully, and she balked, stumbling back a step. Something was knocked loose.

"Namie—?" Minato called abruptly, ready to dispel the jutsu and halt the match, but the blonde girl held up a hand and shook her head.

"Ah…it came out." She sighed, spitting her tooth towards the ground. "You owe me big time, Brother!" With renewed vigor, she charged her brother's clone and unleashed a fierce strike that was met with a block and counter that drove her back.

'_Damned if I can't get close!'_ She cursed, wiping a hand across her sweaty brow. '_Ah, wait, no—that's it. I just have to get _him_ to come close.'_ With a light smirk, Namie went on the defensive, leaving a few intentional openings, and awaited the clone's next attack.

Without a wasted moment, Minato-clone charged and aimed another open-palm strike where her guard was weak. Namie dodged the strike and, while the clone was caught in his forward momentum, quickly stepped around him and locked her arms around his torso, pulling flush against his back. Then, with a loud cry, she threw all of her weight backwards while arcing her body into a bridge, imitating the suplex she'd seen Kushina perform.

'_I can do this! It's working!' _She cheered internally when his feet left the ground and the weight she was holding onto increased. Only—midway through the move, she realized the weight was _too much._ Her bridge collapsed and—with a surprised squawk, she began to crumple beneath the heaviness she'd underestimated.

Uh oh. Minato recognized_ that_ technique. He'd witnessed a certain redhead executing it during their Academy days. For Namie to have picked it up somewhere couldn't have been a coincidence. Somewhere along the way, she must have run into Uzumaki Kushina.

But at the moment, that was the least of his worries.

"Namie!" Before any damage could be done, Minato dispelled the jutsu and instead of crushing weight, Namie's small body was surrounded only in smoke when her back smacked into the dry grass.

"Ow…" The girl hissed, grimacing at the blond that was hovering over her with a concern—and was that irritation? "Thanks. That could have been bad." She grumbled, rubbing the back of her head. '_I guess Kushina was right to train me up before letting me try this. Being a kid sucks!'_

"Jeez—just what were you thinking?" Minato sighed as he helped his sibling sit up. "Did you hit your head?"

Namie winced at the barely-perceptible sharpness in his tone as he carefully checked her over for injuries like a startled mother hen. He was definitely upset. "No, I'm fine. Just surprised…and a little embarrassed." She admitted, grinning meekly.

"That was reckless." He admonished with a frown.

Her grin dropped. "But it's a _really_ cool move, Brother—"

"Cool or not, next time you're going to give me a detailed explanation before you try out that—or _any_ new moves again. Understand?" At the very least, he was glad she'd used a shadow clone of his to practice with instead of himself or someone else. He wasn't completely confident that he would have been able to move away before she could be hurt, if it had been his real body, because _really_, what had she been thinking, trying to pull off something like that?

Maybe it had been a mistake to start teaching her taijutsu at such a young age. Not only for her sake, but his as well. Because her skill level was decent, and steadily increasing, he sometimes forgot just who he was dealing with. _His six-year-old sister. _Not just another peer. If she ever got seriously hurt—especially if it was _his_ fault, then… well, he would just have to make sure it never happened.

"R-right." Namie agreed, cheeks coloring. It was rare to get scolded by Minato, but more than that, she was offset by the fact that she'd disappointed him. "Sorry. I'll keep that in mind. Promise."

"As long as you understand." Minato ruffled the girl's hair as his smile returned. "But—have you gotten stronger? I can still feel the sting from some of those hits…"

Namie's eyes narrowed. "Speaking of hits—Minato, you knocked my tooth out, you know." She growled, poking her tongue through the hole where one of her front baby teeth had once been to stress her point.

"Huh—wasn't that one already loose?" Upon seeing the girl's seething glare, coupled with the way she seriously addressed him by his name, he laughed uneasily. She was strangely sensitive about her baby teeth. "Right, right. I'll buy you an ice cream on the way home."

"Really? You're the best, Brother!" Just like that, she reverted to her adorable self and hopped up onto her feet with a grin before tugging at his arm for him to do the same.

He couldn't help but smile as he rose to his feet. "By the way, just where did you learn that…?" One of his eyebrows quirked curiously.

"Oh, uh—a friend!" With that, she ended the conversation and hurried up the hill, calling after him to pick up the pace as well before the ice cream shop closed.

A _friend?_ She'd never mentioned one of those before.

He already had an inkling of who this 'friend' was, but it was worth investigating.

* * *

As expected from a group of six-year-olds, the class sparring matches were nothing to write home about. Their skill levels revealed that Namie didn't even need to resort to showing off with a special move.

She watched with mild interest when Suzume was paired up with some other faceless classmate and suffered a spectacular loss, and with even less interest when her other classmates had their turns. It was a mixed bag: some were decently skilled, and some were incredibly poor with hand-to-hand combat and struck blindly despite their lessons.

Namie tuned out most of the matches and worked on developing another skill while awaiting her turn.

Given that shinobi could focus chakra towards their feet in order to tree-walk and stand on liquid surfaces, she figured the same applied to keeping her feet stuck to the ground. Despite training, her child body was petite and stick-thin, so there wasn't a great amount of substance to her and it made pushing her back almost effortless during a fight—she remembered that from sparring with her brother's shadow clone (not only that, but now that she thought about it, just what had she been thinking, trying to pull off a German suplex with her body in that shape?).

Namie hypothesized that, if she could succeed in keeping her feet planted to the ground, she could maintain her stance and prevent getting knocked back. Her chakra control was satisfactory enough by now to toy with the mechanics behind the idea, and she had plenty of time and boredom to go off on tangents like this during class.

She abandoned those thoughts when she was finally called. The name that accompanied hers caused her to glance up in surprise.

"Namikaze Namie and Inuzuka Toboe. Please wait until I give the signal to begin. Remember, just like the rest of the matches before you, this is barehanded combat of any style only. No weapons. The first one to land a solid body hit wins. Now, make the seal of confrontation and get ready." The chuunin instructor called, watching as his two students moved to stand opposite each other in the designated fighting area.

She'd expected to see the russet-haired boy with his ninken in tow, but the cocoa-brown puppy remained at the sidelines, looking on happily. She wasn't certain if it was because it was a taijutsu-only match, but she was always under the impression that that particular clan included their canine partners regardless of style. Whatever the case, it worked in her favor. There was no way she could beat down such a cute puppy.

Instead, she focused her attention on the lone Inuzuka standing before her. There was a scowl pinching his face, but the gruffness did little to mask the obvious arrogance that he believed he had the upper hand.

'_His stance is weak,'_ Namie noted, surveying the boy with arrogantly narrowed blue eyes as his own hazel ones did the same. '_I can take him down from three angles in a second.'_ She flexed her fingers and slowly sank into position, awaiting the starting signal. A smile slowly spread across her face. '_Payback time!'_

"Okay, okay. Looks like you're both good to go. _Start!_" Their instructor called, stepping back with clipboard in hand to evaluate the match.

Namie rushed in first.

Briefly, her opponent reeled back in surprise at being confronted so blatantly, but then quickly—and clumsily—avoided the sweeping high kick aimed at his head by dropping to the ground. _'Sk—skirt! She does that in a skirt?! Even if she's wearing shorts underneath, still!'_ He thought, alarmed by her bold attack. She wasn't holding back. She never did, not even in basic training.

Even so, regardless of her methods, this was the smallest girl in the class. Comparatively, he was one of the taller students in their year. Not only that, but she was a _girl._ If he was beaten, his friends would never let him live it down. '_Yeah…For sure, they'll tease me forever if the midget with the bad haircut wins. Like I'll let that happen!'_

With a growl, Toboe seized Namie's leg as it soared over his head, only narrowly missing its target, and shoved her back, earning a strangled yelp from the girl. While she was off-kilter, he threw a punch at her unguarded torso—only to miss as she blocked, grabbed his wrist and flung his arm away. She followed up with her own strike to his chest, but he stepped back to avoid the blow.

'_Tch. He's not completely inept.'_ Namie acknowledged. '_And he's a lot bigger. Blocking that punch kinda hurt. Better to end this ASAP.'_ She cracked her knuckles with a frown before rushing in for another attack. "Don't run away now!"

"Run away? As if, Strawhead!"

A few titters passed through the crowd of onlookers upon hearing the awful nickname, and some even had the nerve to repeat it as they egged on the fight.

"Now, now, focus on the match, don't talk too much," the chuunin interjected.

Namie grimaced as she dodged a kick. '_Looks like that nickname is catching on. Brats!' _ She hadn't expected it, but even though the boy's defense left plenty to be desired, he was quick to react and evade her hits. If her speed was just a bit better, she was sure she could keep up and overthrow him.

She stood back and observed her Inuzuka opponent, eyes scanning for a definite opening. He favored his right side and left a great area of his left open, but his quickness made up for that flaw. '_Then, the legs. His kick was weak and he sticks to hand strikes mainly. I bet I can knock him on his ass easy!'_ When the boy came within her reach, Namie dropped to the ground and swept her leg out towards his feet.

'_I see what she's planning!'_ The boy jumped over her leg a bit clumsily before he could be knocked down, and grinned. "Nice try."

"Tch…" She straightened back up with a glare. It was her fault for underestimating the kid, she knew, but it was _so_ humiliating to be bested by a brat. Being beaten by Minato, Kushina, and even Taji, she could handle, but…not this. "That's it."

When the russet-haired boy recovered, he'd forgotten to put up his guard. Namie rushed him, fist raised, ready to end the match—

His face was only inches away—

_She was going to win—_

Just millimeters away from the moment of victory, her opponent evaded the punch with a surprised grunt and her fist overshot its mark. Namie pulled back as swiftly as she could to avoid whatever counter he had planned, and nearly escaped, until a hand tangled into one of her braids and locked her in place.

Namie's astounded cry was cut short and morphed into a winded wheeze as the boy's fist collided with her stomach. Just as soon as he'd grabbed her hair, he released it, and the blonde sank to the ground on all fours, coughing. "That—" she breathed, teeth grinding together, "that was so underhanded! _Sensei!_" Despite her hacking and coughing, she viciously protested the hit. "That can't count!"

"Ah…I'm sorry, Namie. I didn't think anything like that would happen, but it was anything goes, so it's a legal win." Her teacher explained evenly before turning to her opponent. "Winner: Inuzuka Toboe. You both did well." He approached Namie. "Are you okay?"

"_Yes_." Namie ignored her teacher and rose to her feet, rubbing at her torso in irritation more than pain, because it didn't hurt as much as the loss embarrassed her. She roughly bumped her shoulder into the Inuzuka boy's as she passed by him and hissed, "you punch like a baby," before retreating to the school building and further ignoring her teacher's calls.

'_How stupid. I should have tried out Kushina's move again after all.'_

* * *

**A/N:** I've had a change of heart regarding my replying methods and while I have no issues with this site's review reply system, I find it's easier to keep track of them here (call me old-fashioned) so:

**Sethera**—Ah, same! If this were a 100%-true-to-the-word SI story, Namie wouldn't be nearly as composed and determined to change the storyline! And would most likely end up being really useless, and helped out a lot, like you mentioned.

**Kasuke. Hagase**—I think this chapter probably answered your question! But given how Minato acts around Kushina and keeps a close watch on her canonically, he's bound to find out eventually anyways.

**Mayonaka Yoreki**—WOW are we on the same wavelength or what? I'd thought at length about a lot of the things you mentioned back when plotting this story. And I remember that movie, that comment really made me consider. While I don't think that event could fit into my current plans, I'm definitely toying with the idea of making it a side story or separate one-shot in the future if I can make it work!

Thanks to the above and to **milpld, Bananarock509, Shadowmage97,** **coronadomontes **(you're my first and only foreign-language reviewer so far, did you know?), **Strife666, LuzElvaParra17, 10th Squad 3rd Seat, Moka-girl, Juliedoo, CeresMaria, Fox Kit Princess, mass-defect, Jackoblades47, iluvfairytale, tsubame. hayakaze, Rhavaniel15 **and **all Guests **for ever reviewing. Pretty sure I mentioned everyone but kick me if I didn't. And thanks also to all you silent ones for reading. I found that it's a lot more personal thanking people by name, after seeing xLilim do the same. By the way, said author has an absolutely aaaaamazing MadaraOC story called **Redesign** that you readers should_ definitely_ check out if it's up your alley! It's one of my faves.

See you next time!


	8. Seven: Uneasy, Comfort

'_I can't believe that little shit beat me,_' Namie grumbled as she skived out of the rest of the day's lessons and took to blowing off steam around the village. '_Him, a faceless _nobody._ A stock character, at best!'_ No matter how petty she was being at the small loss, it was a huge blow to her ego. She, a near-thirty-year-old woman, was beaten by some _child_ that popped up out of the woodwork.

'_I wanted to go home and brag to Minato that I won…'_

"Well, whatever!" She scoffed outwardly, stuffing her hands into her dress pockets as she stalked down the street. "If playing dirty is allowed, then I'll have a whole slew of new moves to bring in…"

"Who plays dirty?"

Namie quite openly choked and immediately spun on her heel to confront the speaker. "Ku—_Kushina-nee-chan!_" The bitterness of her bad mood dissipated, replaced by shock. She wasn't set to meet with the older girl again until the day after next, and she'd never encountered her in the village aside from their training sessions, so she could do little to stifle the reaction. Her cheeks colored when she finally regained hold of her senses and she crossed her arms.

"Hey, wait—aren't you supposed to be in school right now?" The redhead muttered with a raised brow before a cunning smirk overtook her face. "Ha, don't tell me you're playing hooky? You're such a goody-goody, I never would have thought you'd try that, Namie-brat!" There was a hint of approval in her tone.

'_Little do you know that I've skipped out plenty of times on boring lessons in the past.'_ Namie huffed inwardly, grinning a little. "Well…yeah. I guess it happens."

"For sure, dattebane! So, so, what were you talking about earlier?" Kushina continued to grin, setting her hands on her hips as she looked over the younger girl.

It seemed she wasn't as surprised by the sudden run-in as the blonde was. But Namie had since figured that Kushina was the type to just roll with the tide and take things in stride. If she didn't know any better, she'd say the girl looked a little excited to see a familiar face.

Namie remained silent until the girl's deep violet gaze met her own. "We had sparring matches in class today, and—" a light sneer pulled at the edges of her lips, "I…lost." She admitted grudgingly. "But it was foul play, I tell you! That jerk, that total bozo, he—he pulled my hair just to get in a hit! Can you believe it, Kushina-nee-chan?!"

An angry tick surfaced near the other girl's cheek as she stared in disbelief. Boys who teased girls about their hair and touched it and pulled at it with ill intention were enemies to the female race. Now that she looked closer, she could see that one of the blonde's braids was mussed and uneven compared to its twin.

The younger Namikaze hadn't meant to erupt in an all-out rant, and snapped her mouth shut once she'd said her piece. Kushina's reaction was a bit unexpected, however—especially when her vibrant hair began to waver as if it had a life of its own. Namie had the notion to step back, but the redhead spoke before she could make a move.

"_NO WAY!_ Boys like that are total scum! Your hair is so pretty, Namie-chan, I can't believe someone would just—just _yank_ on it to get the upper hand! That's so low…beat him up good next time, 'ttebane!"

'_Namie-chan, eh?'_ Namie wasn't sure what was more shocking: Kushina using an honorific instead of calling her a brat, or Kushina getting worked up for her sake (her response was so intense, even, that it attracted a few strange stares from passersby). Not to mention, she complimented her hair so openly. A pleasantly mild heat rose to her cheeks as she fiddled uncertainly with the end of one of her braids.

In her past life, her color scheme had been plain—a boring brown for both her hair and eyes. She'd never once been a beautiful blue-eyed blonde, and so her current appearance had always seemed somewhat…unreal. The teasing and childish insults of "strawhead" and "hay-for-bangs" never bothered her greatly because she took her appearance for granted, but when someone said something kind towards it, acknowledged it…she felt a little speechless.

The girl's eyes drifted towards Kushina's long red locks and a small grin slowly lifted the edges of her lips. "No way, your hair's way prettier than mine, Kushina-nee-chan. But I guess kunoichi have to deal with things like that, right?" She expected a seamless, upbeat response from the older girl, but when her question was met with silence, she glanced at the redhead's face curiously.

Kushina looked to be nonplussed, mouth hanging slightly agape as if she'd halted mid-sentence.

Namie's grin wavered, but before she could second-guess her choice of words, the redhead's face split into a wide smile as she rubbed at her nose. And unless it was just a trick of the light, there was also a tint of red gracing the girl's cheeks, nearly bright enough to rival her hair color.

Before the blonde could react to the shift in situation, a heavy arm was slung around her shoulders and she was swept along with the older girl's pace when she began to walk. "Come on, I know just what'll cheer you up, Namie-chan!"

'_Oh no, don't tell me—'_

The redheaded firecracker dragged her to a nearby food stand.

'_Ramen. Of course.'_

Was there ever any doubt this woman was Naruto's mother?

* * *

Kushina nearly spat out the mouthful of noodles she'd bit into—but managed to avoid wasting her precious ramen and instead made an undignified and garbled snort—when her understudy admitted to having prematurely tried to perform the very move she'd been teaching her. The girl swallowed her food harshly before frowning and pointing an accusatory finger in the other's face, nearly bopping her in the nose. "I _told_ you you're not ready!"

Namie leaned away from her (tentative) friend to avoid the slight spray of noodle juice that came about due to her shouting, as well as the potential broken nose. '_Now, now, that's not polite.'_ "I know. But if I could do it by now, there's no way I would've lost that match."

Kushina's brows drew together in worry as she glanced sideways in thought. "Totally, but…who exactly did you try that move on, anyways?"

"…My older brother."

Namie was sure the redhead would have spit out her soup if she'd been eating. "J-just how much older, here?!"

"Hmm. Six years?"

"_Brat!_" Namie found herself pulled into a headlock and sputtered feebly while letting go of her bowl to avoid spilling her own ramen. No doubt that would only make the firecracker angrier. "You're pretty small, you know? Why do you think I'm putting you through all this training? Definitely not to go after bigger opponents yet, '_ttebane!_" Knuckles ground painfully against the top of her skull.

"_But_," Namie winced, holding onto the older girl's arms in a futile attempt to ease her hold, "you _did_ say I should be able to throw_ you_ by the time I learn the move properly, Kushina-nee-chan…!"

"_Are you calling me fat?!_" Her knuckles pressed harder and the small blonde frantically floundered for an escape, flailing her arms.

"N-no!"

* * *

Half a year passed, though Namie was able to master the German suplex under Kushina's watchful eye in only a third of that time. She wasn't able to overthrow a larger opponent like Kushina yet, but she knew that in time she would reach that level (and, at the very least, she'd been able to get her revenge on that Inuzuka boy when they were set to spar against each other again).

The relationship between her and the Red-hot Habanero had grown stronger, to the point where they sometimes met up to socialize (and to Namie's dismay, eat ramen) when they weren't training. Kushina proved to be a valuable asset in learning taijutsu, Namie had learned, and even after she'd mastered the initial move their training was purposed for, the older girl continued to instruct her on various aspects of kunoichi life.

It was similar to Minato's guidance, but Minato was not a girl and thus could only cover certain aspects of shinobi training.

In a way, Kushina was the female presence that her surrogate mother could not be.

Namie was reluctant to admit it, but she was already beginning to view the redhead as a part of her family.

The only thing that worried her was the fact that her friend hadn't yet been spirited away by the Kumo nin—she wasn't naïve enough to believe she may have changed something and circumvented the event completely, no, she was certain it was pending.

It _could_ have happened already, during the second war, she supposed, but what enemy ninja would be stupid enough to invade the Fire Country's territory during times of conflict? Even if it was to try and gain leverage with an Uzumaki's power, it was an incredibly high risk with low rewards (because, in her mind, they were complete fools to even think they could subjugate the fiery child).

It was easier sneaking a small group into a powerful country during the peacetimes.

That meant they would be planning their move any day now.

She wasn't clear on the details, but she hadn't remembered an entire platoon sneaking in to whisk the redhead away. At most, there were only as many as a typical cell of four shinobi involved. They hadn't been particularly strong, either, if a young Minato had been able to easily handle them—and he definitely _would_ handle them, she was certain.

It was only a matter of _when_ they would strike.

Not only that, but after this event, and she wasn't sure when, Kushina would become the host of Kurama. It couldn't have happened yet, because by all means, Konoha should be guarding its jinchuuriki to such an extent that a kidnapping was nigh impossible.

She concluded that the exchange between Mito and Kushina was yet to come.

Once one domino fell, more were sure to follow.

* * *

"That's the wrong flower. We're not looking for everlasting sweet peas."

Namie glanced up from the patch of flora-specked grass she was digging through and narrowed her eyes when a familiar face—or rather, a familiar head of bushy hair—greeted her. "Ah, Ultra Perm. What, you actually have time to socialize?"

"Don't call me that." Suzume's facial features pinched together in distaste. "Sensei sent me to…_help_ the less fortunate. We're looking for regular sweat peas." She held out her own pink flower a little prissily as she stepped further into the shade of the nearby tree hanging overhead.

Namie glanced down at the purplish flower in her hand, then at the posy grasped in the other girl's stubby fingers. They looked similar, but the petals were different.

Even after perusing the field guides Taji had lent her, identifying flora was still one of her weak areas. It wasn't that she was terrible at memorizing their defining traits, but the subject of floriculture was just so _boring_ that she cared very little. She just didn't see the importance behind it. Plus, they made her sneeze.

In her past life, she'd admired the pretty flowers from afar and had a passing fancy to engage in the science, but now there were other things to occupy her time—like taijutsu.

In truth, she wasn't entirely concerned with grooming herself to be a proper kunoichi. Her grade in the class was far from stellar. In comparison, Suzume was the top student. Whether it was because her mother was teaching the class, or because she was trained in that specific area, she wasn't certain. Nor did she really care.

"If you wanna be friends, just say so?" Namie lilted with a smile, straightening from her squat and dusting off her clothes. She held the incorrectly-identified flower out to the girl—who was forced to accept it when it was thrust so carelessly towards her, lest it drop to the ground forgotten—and turned on her heel to escape.

"Strawhead!" The curly-haired girl hissed, hurrying after her blonde classmate. "It's not like I _want_ to help you, but you're holding the class back!"

Namie turned, curious, and briefly surveyed the area to see that no one was within immediate earshot. '_This is when the beast comes out,' _she observed with a small smile, waiting for the frizzy-haired girl to catch up. It seemed her awful nickname had stuck, despite the fact her bangs had already grown out normally. Even the irritating Inuzuka (and, regrettably, a good portion of the class) continued to address her that way. She'd be damned if she didn't get Suzume's nickname of Ultra Perm, or Toboe's nickname of Toto to catch on the same way someday as payback.

Suzume panted slightly, looking frazzled, as she smoothed her yukata and leered at her peer. "We cannot move on to the next unit until everyone shows decent progress in identification. We're a whole week behind."

"Oh, what's next? _More_ flowery stuff?" The blonde scoffed, setting her hands on her hips and stretching her back idly.

"Have a _little_ pride in yourself, at least." Suzume grumbled. "It doesn't make sense that your grades are good in pretty much everything else, but then they really suck in one class." She glanced down at the flowers clutched in her hands and pursed her lips. "As a kunoichi, you should take to heart what you're taught in these lessons."

Namie breathed a small laugh. "Wow. Didn't know you cared so much."

"I—" The girl sputtered, interestingly enough. Even when she was being snooty, she usually kept her cool. Namie observed her with questioning eyes. "In truth, I have a request…Namie-s…san."

"Oh?" Calling her by her _actual_ name, with an _honorific_ no less, meant the girl was serious. '_But, still, it's so rigid. She's uptight.'_ "And?"

Suzume fidgeted, gently wringing the sweet-pea stems between her fingers. Her dark eyes briefly connected with Namie's before she glanced away again. "Your taijutsu is…decent."

"I know! Right?"

The girl's eyebrow twitched. "That is, it's certainly better than my own. If," she faltered. "If you…were to give me guidance, then—then it would only be fair that I help you out with these lessons."

"Oh."

'_I didn't expect that.'_

"Is that a fair trade?" Suzume pressed, looking slightly—grudgingly—hopeful.

Namie pursed her lips and studied the other girl with little interest. "Only if you call me 'shishou.'" She smirked, though the smug expression was short-lived. Upon hearing that, the brunette stormed away without another word. "Huh. No dice." Once the girl was out of sight, the blonde sank to the ground again and began to fiddle with a few blades of grass for lack of anything better to do.

Aside from her curly-haired "friend," none of the other girls in the class paid her any mind. Along with the two, there were three more in their year, all from their sister class. They were somewhat of a clique that mostly ignored the brunette and blonde. At first, the teacher—a pretty woman who was clearly the mother of Suzume and the daughter of Chieko by similarity—had hounded her and pushed her to perform better in the class, but after a couple of months passed with no outward progress, she'd taken to letting the girl do as she wished, while complaining to her guardian. Taji had also attempted to motivate Namie, but when even that didn't provide the desired results, she reasoned with the teacher to allow the girl a little extra time.

Namie hoped they would just kick her out of the class if she showed enough disinterest, but as Taji had said, she could not become a full-fledged kunoichi without passing the lessons. It didn't bother her, really. If push came to shove, she would pull herself up to a passing mark to get the other adults off her back. She didn't need _help._

'_I think I know how Shikamaru felt, now. Some things really are just too troublesome._'

"Namie-chan?"

Namie glanced upwards when a cool voice called her name, and was only vaguely surprised to see her teacher standing over her. She was a severe woman with tame dark hair pulled neatly into a bun, just above the knot of her hitai-ate, a prettily-painted pale face, and practical but elegant kunoichi costume. Probably, Namie thought, the epitome of what a kunoichi was supposed to be.

'_But people like Taji and Kushina are more my ideal kunoichi types.'_

Her name slipped her mind. "Sensei?" She pulled her hands free from the reeds and rose to her feet. Briefly, she noted, Suzume was hanging back a few feet away, looking somewhat victorious.

"Starting today, you will be attending extra kunoichi lessons after your scheduled classes have ended. I feel it prudent to inform you that your poor performance in my class will only serve to hold back your peers, as well as yourself. Your guardian has given permission for these extra lessons."

'_Well, Ultra Perm's a real chip off the ol' block, isn't she? No wonder she's so stiff. For such a pretty woman, this lady's a stick in the mud.'_ Namie pressed her lips together, but nodded soberly. "Yes…ma'am."

This was going to interfere with Kushina's training.

* * *

It was nearly dusk by the time Namie's extra lessons ended. She supposed it was too late to bring her performance up to standard expectations and immediately escape this annoying situation, but sooner or later the kunoichi teacher would have to release her back to her normal routine.

Namie did her best to hurry towards the training ground she and Kushina had taken to practicing at before the redhead could get any more upset over her tardiness, but it seemed the blonde had been graced with one of those days where obstacles consistently stood in her way.

"No way, Strawhead, you actually got extra lessons?"

Or rather, behind her.

Tagging along like a lost puppy at her heels was her Inuzuka classmate and his ninken—the furry one of which she didn't mind at all, though he _had_ peed on her leg once during a history lesson and consequently nearly caused a brawl between her and his owner. Luckily, it hadn't erupted into anything past a fierce lecture on properly training puppies and an equally intense argument about keeping her feet out of other people's spaces, which resulted in their chuunin instructor separating them to opposite sides of the classroom.

"You know, for a brat who talks big and looks so studious, you're actually a moron, ain't ya? One of those brawn instead of brain types. You're better at fighting, so come spar with me." Toboe drawled.

"I don't have time to play. I have somewhere to be." Namie deterred the messy-haired boy with bland dismissal and only a cursory glance over her shoulder. Ever since she managed to beat him—consecutive times—after his initial victory in taijutsu class, he'd developed the annoyingly constant habit of challenging her and trying to correct his losses. Naturally, she declined every challenge unless their teachers pitted them against each other officially.

Kurocha yipped and circled around to stop directly in the blonde's path before she could continue on, and promptly rolled over. It seemed a sin to ignore such an adorable sight, so Namie automatically bent down and catered to the canine despite her initial intentions, sinking her fingertips into his velvet fur without complaint.

"Oi, Kurocha!" Toboe protested, sighing. It was beyond him why the small brown dog was so partial to the blonde girl. When they sat or stood near each other in classes, more often than not the ninken had taken to hovering around her. It was a low blow to his ego, that his own partner preferred someone else to him. All the more reason to give her a hard time.

The Inuzuka clicked his tongue and side-eyed the small girl. "You're always 'busy this' and 'busy that,' even during recess when we all play ninja. No kids our age have lives _that_ demanding." He balled his hands into fists and repeated in a demanding—bratty—tone, "Come on! Fight me, stupid boring Strawhead!"

"Nope." Namie replied dully to the whining while she scratched the pup behind its pointed ears.

She couldn't be stirred. Not only that, but any time Toboe made fun of the girl, his jeers rolled off of her as easily as water from a duck's feathers.

"Dumbass." He spat childishly, "You're just afraid you'll lose, right? 'Cause now I know you're not so smart as you seem."

"If I recall, you're the one who comes up dead last in everything, _Toto._" A certain glee shone through her tone as a smile pulled at her lips. As days passed and she was forced to put up with the annoying desk mate's teasing, she'd come to discover that he wasn't difficult to rile up at all. In a verbal sniping battle against a child, her adult mentality couldn't be defeated—though she did question the maturity of bickering with a kid at times. "In fact, I'd say you were dumb as a dog, but since Kurochan here is pretty smart, well, you're _dumber_."

"_You—_" Toboe moved one hand aggressively towards the girl, but at the same time she stood up and turned to face him with a severe frown. He froze, wondering briefly if she would finally respond to his persistence and give in to his challenge. Kurocha slowly returned to his partner and glanced curiously between the two children as the tension pulled the air around them taught.

Instead of retaliating or reacting, she only glanced down the road before looking back to the duo, one eye squinting in irritation. Time was wasting. "Fighting you is no fun." Namie didn't show a trace of humor on her face—only boredom—as she spoke bluntly. "You're _bad_ at taijutsu, and you're no good against me so there's no point. Quit asking to fight me when you don't even know how to improve yourself against an opponent. You suck!"

The boy's face turned an interesting shade of reddish-purple, and he quite literally choked.

Seeing that he was speechless, she repeated, "I don't have time to play."

Toboe regained control of himself and scowled, though if she wasn't mistaken, his lip began to tremble. "Whatever, Strawhead, you're so stuck-up! I'm outta here!" He quickly bent to pick up his ninken before pushing past the blonde and hurrying on his way.

That was the quickest she'd ever managed to shake off his nagging, and she suspected her harsh words had caused him to cry.

Namie shrugged it off and turned onto a side street that led directly to her desired training ground. The sun was well past the horizon, and it would be a wonder if Kushina was even still waiting for her. They couldn't get any training done in the dark, either way, but she didn't want to just abandon the girl if she had, in fact, decided to wait.

This was one of the few times that Namie deeply missed the advanced technology she'd been familiar with. If they had cellphones, there wouldn't be annoying situations like this.

However, that was the least of her worries.

The smaller problems of her day paled in comparison to what she stumbled upon when she reached the outskirts of the training field.

There, sitting innocently at her feet, just faintly glinting in the fading sunlight, was a very familiar strand of crimson hair.

* * *

**A/N: **Updated quickly because it's officially been one month since I've started Laterality.

Hey, guess what. This story is approaching a canon event! It's happening next update (probably next week) and it's going to be the longest chapter to date. I'm really terribly excited and I hope you readers are too! And also, look at that—I decided to start naming chapters.

Thanks to everyone for reading/faving/following and to **SilverRider09, KisaragiMarru, xenocanaan, Sethera, Kasuke. Hagase, moon so bright **and** coronadomontes**for reviewing!

As for replies:

**Kasuke. Hagase—**Yep! Namie is a little younger than Sasori, actually, by around a year or so. I'll have to double-check on that, but in any case she'll be 18 during the Kyuubi's attack if you'd rather do the math yourself.

**coronadomontes—**I always have to use google translate on your reviews because my Spanish is verrryyyy basic (but I don't mind it, really! I appreciate your reviews), so I hope I understood this properly. You asked if Namie will be a part of canon or go off and do her own thing without affecting it, right? The answer to that is she will become deeply involved with the story after a certain event occurs, but that's still quite a few chapters ahead, when she's older.

Happy early 4th of July to those who celebrate it. See you next update!


	9. Eight: Opening Move, Consequences

"Jeez…that kid is really late today." Kushina huffed as she shielded her eyes from the sun and glanced down the road to see if her little blonde pupil was nearby. When they made plans to meet up, Namie was typically punctual (or rather, because the redhead expressed her dislike for tardiness by performing a German suplex on the girl, she made it a point never to be late again).

During the first few weeks they'd been training, Kushina expected the small girl to quickly lose interest—but over the several months had passed, that had yet to happen. She'd since grown fond of the child, and the thought that maybe she would abandon her left an uncomfortable nag in her heart.

Because of her rowdy reputation, many children her own age and younger made it common practice to avoid her.

Because of her status as a refugee from Uzushiogakure—as an outsider—the village attitude as a whole wasn't kindly towards her.

It didn't seem that Namie knew about this, either that or she didn't care. The girl was strange. But she was also amusing.

The redhead hadn't realized it at first, but when the younger girl was present, it was almost like having her very own little sister to tease and annoy—and also to have fun with, even though she _did_ at times say difficult things that Kushina wouldn't admit were out of her understanding.

She was one of the rare few who didn't mind her and continued to stick around for better or for worse. Mito was comforting company as well, but children needed to be around other children to thrive. It was one of the reasons Namie had taken to her, she realized. The girl didn't seem to have any friends, only ever mentioning her beloved brother from time to time (she still wasn't sure who that was, but she applauded his training methods that seemed to be the root of the girl's skill level).

Their bond wasn't so thin that it could simply be tossed aside and forgotten.

She knew that. S_he did._ But knowing alone wasn't enough to ease her worry.

Kushina mentally reviewed her "lesson plans" to distract herself from such depressing thoughts. Taijutsu was coming along well: there was little left to teach her in that area. The little girl definitely had a knack for barehanded combat. She would teach her all about fun pranks and traps when she reached her limit there, and eventually…yes, eventually, she decided, when the little blonde showed more improvement with her chakra control, she would teach her some entry level fuinjutsu.

But that probably wouldn't be for at least another year.

'_It's about sunset. Huh, was I just totally ditched?'_ The girl scratched at her hitai-ate's knot, noting that she'd accidentally caught a few strands of her hair in between the tied fabric, and clicked her tongue as she pulled them loose with an inaudible snap and let them float carelessly to the ground.

A light pang of pain pulled at her scalp when she ripped the strands loose, and the sudden shock fueled her irritated mood. She stomped her foot and set her hands on her hips angrily before growling, "Namie-brat, you're gonna get it next time I see you, 'ttebane!" A feral grin had risen to her face, but at the sight of the empty road, it quickly evaporated into a frown.

No one was going to hear her.

Uzumaki Kushina wasn't known for her patience, and her attention span wasn't the highest, so there was only so long she could stand around waiting. When the first dusky undertones touched the sky, she hung her head and plodded slowly home.

"Home" was a poor definition to apply to the redhead's humble abode. There was no one there to greet her—no warm, loving family, and no beacon of welcoming light glowing from the windows. Though well-cared for and cozily furnished, it was a cold place. She'd sworn that, the day she made friends, she would invite them over in order to bring life and color to the empty home, but when everyone was busy with school and missions, it was difficult to find the time.

And so, she was alone.

It was for this reason that she knew she stood no chance against the group of foreign shinobi that ambushed her.

'_Someone…help me!'_

* * *

Minato wiped the sweat from his brow as he finished collecting his projectile weapons from the various trees they were embedded in and packing them away where they belonged. Just as it had always been for the past week, today's training had been taxing. But Jiraiya was adamant in enrolling the team for the upcoming chuunin exams, so it was only natural they'd been subjected to such harsh lessons—he and Ayase, that is. Their team was still left incomplete, filled in with a rotation of other fellow genin when missions were issued, and he supposed it would be the same for the upcoming test as well. If they both managed to pass and be promoted, their lack of a third member would become moot, since they would become part of new cells consisting of other chuunin.

Such was shinobi life.

The weak were left behind and the world had no time for them.

It was a heartbreaking way to think.

He'd seen Ginta a handful of times since the incident that caused him injury, and though he seemed happy outwardly, Minato didn't miss the envious stares that were sent his way occasionally. Yet, where he once would complain without a thought, he now refrained from uttering a word about it and resigned himself to working in the Hokage building taking care of menial, secretarial chores.

"Well, that's a wrap then. What a long day!" Ayase commented from a short distance ahead as she walked away from a brief discussion with their sensei and stretched her arms behind her head, glancing at the darkening sky.

Said teacher clapped his hands together, as if to brush imaginary dust away from his palms, and breathed out a sigh. "Great work today, kids. If we keep this up, I have no doubts you'll both pass the exam the first time around with flying colors!"

"You mean it takes some genin more than once?" The blond wondered as he approached the two.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Definitely! Why do you think the exam's held twice every year? It's no walk in the park, lemme tell ya."

"My sister didn't pass until the third time taking it." The Hyuuga contributed. "Boy was Mom upset…" A shudder ran through her at the memory. "I'm going to pass no matter what. You better, too, Minato! Don't embarrass me or Jiraiya-sensei." She pointed at him threateningly.

Minato laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "Right, right. You know, I don't plan on anything less, Ayase."

"Trust me, you two'll be fine." Jiraiya stressed, patting them both on the back. His face lit up at a sudden idea. "Hey, why don't we all go out to eat right now as a reward for such a long day?"

"Huh?" Ayase scoffed, "no way. Last time we did that, sensei, _we_ ended up footing the bill 'cause you pissed off the waitress and got kicked out."

"Ah, well…" Jiraiya ran a hand through his mane of hair and looked away with a guilty chuckle.

"Besides," the girl continued, "I'm set on going to the bathhouse right now and you can't change my mind. Maybe save that invite for _after_ we pass the chuunin exams, huh?"

"Come on! Minato?" The Sannin cast a glance towards the boy, expression almost begging him to take up the offer.

Minato smiled apologetically and shook his head. "Namie's waiting alone at home, so I should get back as soon as possible. Sorry, sensei."

"You kids…" He sighed, setting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in mock-disappointment. "Fine, fine. I'll save it for after the exams when you're both sporting chuunin vests. But, still. I'm starving, so see ya!"

After saying their goodbyes, the three went their separate ways.

'_Namie probably met up with Kushina again today,'_ Minato thought idly as he glanced towards the vermillion sky. He'd begun to notice a pattern in his little sister's schedule, in which she came home from school later than usual on certain days. Along with that, after her botched attempt at performing a Kushina-specific technique, he'd followed up on his suspicions and discovered that the small blonde was indeed training with the redheaded girl.

He'd thought to bring it up, since Namie hadn't, but every time he tried he was always struck with the feeling that maybe it was too invasive to ask. The few times he'd stumbled upon the scene of the two girls training together, they both revealed sides of themselves that he wouldn't normally encounter.

Teasing grins. Genuine, endearing laughs.

Sure, Namie was usually upbeat around him, and did nothing less than dote in admiration, but around the redhead she was more natural and not afraid to toss around insults. She never spoke a word against him like that when _they _were together.

As for Kushina… there was hardly a time he could recall in which she'd been grinning so broadly. The typical picture was a worried, pinched brow and a frown, or a firecracker explosion of irritation at someone who had gotten on her nerves. And, occasionally, a lonely expression.

The two girls played off of one another well—that much was clear. They were able to pull something from each other and become more _alive_. He felt that if he intervened at the wrong time, it would somehow drive a wedge between them and break whatever precious bond had formed.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was cause strife for either of those girls. They were both important to him.

But he knew that, in time, Namie would tell him all about her beautiful friendship—

A disturbance swelled the air.

The soft, pensive smile dropped from Minato's face as he went on guard and scanned the surrounding area for the cause, fingers reaching for his kunai holster.

It was something in the trees—

The way the leaves rustled—

The sound of a clumsy footstep—

And there, a flash of familiar crimson hair.

He dashed after that misplaced sight without a second thought.

* * *

Namie wasn't sure how long she stood silent, staring at the thin red filament grasped tenderly in her fingers. It was so vibrant, so bright, gleaming in the waning light like a warning alarm.

She _knew_ she had to move, that she couldn't just stand there, because this _wasn't_ a drill. It wasn't a false start, not like before, no, this was the real deal and _Kushina was being taken._

Could she rely on the fact that Minato would surely pursue her and rescue her? How had he come across the fateful trail of red threads that led him to the girl? Was he currently emotionally invested in the Uzumaki girl to a point where he would definitely care enough to take chase?

This world was familiar—but at the same time, completely vague and alien. Namie's presence alone had surely altered a great number of factors, so she wasn't entirely certain about what she could absolutely rely on as law.

But this was Minato's defining moment—the day he became a hero—if only in the eyes of a young redheaded girl. It was his duty to rescue her. His _fate._

'_He has to. It _has_ to be him. Minato has to be the one to save Kushina. I would if I could, but I _can't._ Minato has to do this!'_

The girl swallowed the dry lump lodged in her throat. If anything, she knew she had to make sure that her brother was adhering to his canon role. She clutched the red hair tightly in her hand as she set off at a full, mad sprint towards her home.

"_Taji-san!_" She breathed out, despite her screaming lungs, the moment she reached her apartment. The house was dark and a reply was not returned. "Bro…_Brother?_" She tried, but there was still no response. '_Stupid…Taji's busy with ANBU stuff right now! And Minato, he's…where is he? Training? With his team? The chuunin exams are coming up, right. He said he'd be at the usual training ground until sundown!'_

Tears burned in the blonde's eyes as she slammed the door shut, did an about-face and hurried back into the village, frantically scanning the streets for a flash of yellow hair. '_At best, and it may be too much to hope, he's already caught on. Please, don't be too late…!'_

Konoha's night life was already bustling, filling the streets, which made running through the crowd next to impossible (was there a festival tonight, she wondered? There was certainly a large gathering. She'd never realized just how populated the village was—how many faces there were among her). She knocked into several pairs of legs in her rush to find her brother, and couldn't be bothered to shout apologies to whichever tipsy civilian she offended.

When it reached a point where there were so many people that distinguishing each face in the crowd became nigh impossible, Namie took to shouting out her brother's name in hopes that he would hear her if he was nearby.

"Mina—_oof!_" A particularly solid wall of legs impeded her progress, and she found herself bouncing back and landing on her rear from the harsh impact with an undignified cry.

A confused grunt came from the person she'd collided with as well, and soon a dark-haired figure kneeled before her, looking put-off. "Hey, you should watch where you're going. You could hurt someone."

Namie shook her head and didn't bother glancing at the person as she moved to her feet and prepared to take off into the crowd once again. However, a hand gripping her arm stopped her progress. "Sorry, okay?!" She spat, trying to pull away, desperate to continue the search.

"Where are your parents? You can't be wandering around alone." The man—no, rather, he was only in his mid-teens, a few years older than Minato—informed her in a coarse tone that a child would definitely be unhappy with and afraid of. A tone of authority.

Namie glared up and over her shoulder at whoever had a hold on her and briefly tensed when she spotted the Uchiha clan insignia. Right. They were Konoha's police force, so it was only natural that they were patrolling the streets. But why did they have to bother _her?_ "I'm looking for my brother! Minato! Now lemme go! I have to find him!" She attempted to get free again, to no avail. '_Damn Uchiha. Always getting in the way somehow.'_

The strong-jawed Uchiha officer sent her a slightly exasperated look. "Not alone, you're not. You'll have to stay with me until we find him. What's your name?"

Namie grit her teeth together and contemplated the consequences of kicking a police officer in the shins. '_I need an adult,'_ she mused facetiously, eyes darting through the crowd. "No thanks. I can find him by myself. Minato! Brother! Where are you?" She called loudly, waving an arm and trying to squirm out of the man's grasp. "_Minato!_"

The Uchiha adopted a slightly uncomfortable expression as the passersby began to take notice of the racket and paused to stare curiously. The embarrassing change in situation caused his grip on the girl's arm to momentarily slacken, and the second it did, she rushed forwards, out of his reach, and ignored his curses and calls after her.

Only—she near-instantly ran into another set of legs, this time more of a brick wall than before. But before she could bounce back and hit the ground again, a hand steadied her. "Now, now, what's this about? It seems my little student's gotten quite popular with the young ladies!" An amused, and overly theatric, voice boomed above her head. Namie quickly looked up and came face-to-face with the legendary Jiraiya.

Her eyes widened.

For one brief, terrible moment, the man's impending death flashed before her eyes and it _burned_. Emotions she'd long ago buried threatened to bubble to the surface and moisture collected at the corners of her eyelids as she recalled a body, lifeless, sinking into the ocean—

But—no. He was young, still _alive_, and would be for the next two or so decades. He was right here, right now, and probably a valuable link to her brother's current whereabouts. That thought alone overrode her previous rush of panic.

'_Minato. I have to find Minato. Save Kushina!'_

The smug grin on the white-haired man's face faltered when he got a closer look at the child's strikingly familiar face. "On second thought…little girl, aren't you…?"

Before he could finish, the young Uchiha approached, looking irritated. "Didn't I tell you? Running around recklessly just causes trouble. Now, come with me." He made to reach for her arm yet again, but the shied away and hid behind the Sannin's legs, curling her fingers into the rough fabric of his pants. "Huh?"

"I found who I'm looking for." Namie claimed, fighting the urge to stick her tongue out, as she fixed the dark-haired officer with a fierce stare that just _dared_ him to go against her.

The Uchiha glanced at the person the girl barricaded herself behind, and a flash of realization crossed his face. Of course, it was easy to recognize any member of Konoha's legendary trio. What a little girl had to do with the white-haired one, though, he wasn't certain. Surely, _he_ wasn't her _brother._

Jiraiya rubbed at his head, thoroughly flummoxed, then acknowledged the Uchiha with a shrug. "Ah…see, her older brother is one of my genin students."

The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow. He would be more than happy to wash his hands of the troublesome child, but he couldn't just deposit her in the care of any qualified jounin. "Child, you know him?"

Namie bristled, feeling precious time ticking away. "Yeah. Sannin-sama is my brother's, Minato's, team leader. He'll take it from here, Mister."

After the two older men exchanged looks, the Uchiha seemed to come to terms with the situation and finally left to resume his patrol with a respectful nod.

Once the officer was out of sight, Jiraiya glanced down at the small blonde and sighed. "You know…somehow I had the idea that my cute little student's little sister would also be cute." '_But she's actually a little pushy, and really uncute.'_

Namie ignored his backhanded words and dove immediately into the matter at hand. "Jiraiya-san, where is my brother? I need to find him, right now!"

'_Suddenly it's '-san,' huh? 'Sannin-sama' certainly had a nice ring to it.'_ Jiraiya surveyed the small, abrupt girl that he'd only seen from a distance once before—her name eluded him, despite the fact that Minato had mentioned it before—as he crossed his arms. "Right, right. But you know, little lady, it's not really wise to come up to a total stranger just to get away from the police. I mean, you clearly know who I am, but…" But what if it had been someone else? Would she have done the same thing? Minato wouldn't be too pleased if he found out his precious baby sister was running amok with unknown persons, and because Jiraiya was now (unwillingly) involved, he couldn't exactly leave her be. He felt responsible for her by association.

"Spare me the lecture. I'm in a rush."

The man's jaw nearly unhinged when he heard the girl's sharp tone. What a brat! Here he was, trying to be an adult about it all, and she was giving him attitude. Well, if that was how she wanted to play… He narrowed his eyes a bit, and held his arms dramatically akimbo. "Well, kid, I _would_ tell you, if I knew."

As soon as the blonde heard this, she very noticeably lost all interest in him and made to take off into the crowd, but he quickly intervened.

"_Hold it._" When he had her attention again, he continued. "What's this about? After training, he said he was headed straight home. You should have run into him there."

Namie glanced down at the red hair in her hand and weighed the odds of enlightening the older man. If Minato wasn't nearby, then it was more than likely he was already pursuing the Kumo nins. Pursuing _Kushina_. But there was still that small chance that he _wasn't._ She hated being left in the dark, unaware of what was going on around her. If only there was a way to know…

But there _wasn't_. There was no way to know, not now. All she had was her own limited knowledge and if she didn't take a chance, a huge leap of faith, the consequences could be dire. For _everyone. _

"I think," she faltered, gathering up the necessary courage, "I think Uzumaki Kushina…was kidnapped. And—" again, she paused, uncertainty flooding her thoughts. "_And I think Minato went after her!_" The words finally tumbled out of her mouth in a flurry of near-unintelligible drivel, but it seemed the man understood.

"And just what makes you say that?" He stood at alert, eyeing the girl uncertainly.

Namie wrung the material of her dress between her fingers. Typical, an adult wouldn't take the words of a child at face value. She didn't blame him, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. "I was supposed to meet up with Kushina-nee-chan—we usually do, to train—and she wasn't there. And—I have a bad feeling. There's no way she would leave before I got there. As for my brother, he…you know, he's always watching her. He probably saw it happen and took off to save her." It was a partial lie, a manipulation of the truth and what she prayed to still be _canon_ truth, but she hoped it was reasonable enough to convince the Sannin.

Jiraiya observed the girl quietly. He _had_ recently heard from his student that the redheaded Uzumaki seemed to have taken to hanging around his little sister, and it was his belief that Minato was interested in the tomboyish girl. The boy never seemed the type to play hero, but if a girl he liked was involved, well…love could make people do stupid things. Lord, did _he _know.

If it was true that his student was pursuing the girl and her alleged kidnappers, there was the possibility he could be in danger. It wasn't that Jiraiya didn't trust the boy's skill level, no, not that—but there was a chance the kidnappers were out of his league. If his genin was in trouble, it was his duty as the leader to ensure his safety. Not to mention the Uzumaki girl in question was important to the village and it would cause a great shitstorm if she fell into enemy hands now, when Uzumaki Mito's condition was deteriorating.

In all her earnestness, this little girl didn't seem to be fabricating her tale, either. But even if it was just a false alarm, the intense gleam in her eyes and the absolute conviction in her high-pitched voice made him incredibly uneasy.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to just _check_ on both his student's and the redheaded girl's whereabouts.

"Any idea where this happened?" He queried, putting aside his suspicion and giving her the benefit of the doubt in favor of their mutual interest.

Namie shook her head, but thrust her hand towards him after a moment's hesitation. "This—Kushina-nee-chan's hair—she might be leaving it as a trail." If Minato wasn't following after the girl, then maybe—hopefully—by telling Jiraiya, she would still end up being rescued and returned.

"Alright. I'll look into it. Kid—" The Sannin glanced over his shoulder, searched for a moment, then waved her forward. "Come with me real quick. I can't leave you alone here, so you'll have to stay with the Uchiha policeman from before."

"Wha—wait, but—" When she made no move to comply, he patted her on the back, consequently propelling her forwards and shutting her up, and simultaneously he flagged down the attention of the patrolling officer from before. "Hey, Fugaku-kun!"

'_Fugaku?'_ Namie thought, scraping her thoughts for the source of the name's familiarity as the dark-haired Uchiha approached once again. He probably hadn't been completely convinced of the situation, since he remained in the nearby area. She squinted at the teenager as he approached, and he returned the shade with an offended frown.

"Sorry to dump this brat on ya during patrol, but there's some business I have to take care of."

The officer—Fugaku—half-rolled his eyes at the child before turning his full attention to the older man and nodding. "It's no trouble at all, Jiraiya-sama."

"Great, great!" The Sannin pushed Namie forwards again until she was standing next to the other man, and then turned to head off. However, after a brief moment, he cast a glance over his shoulder. "And, uh, if me or her brother don't come around within about an hour, do you think you could escort her home?"

Fugaku nodded, though it was a bit strained. "Of course." With that, the white-haired sage took to the nearest rooftop and the last they saw of him was the tail of his stark white hair. Once he was gone, the Uchiha's dutiful expression dissolved and was replaced with annoyance.

There was something familiar in that expression, there, that jarred her memory and drew up a comparison. '_Fugaku. That's right, that's Sasuke and Itachi's dad. Oh, no way.'_ A scowl blanketed her face as the realization settled in.

Said Uchiha's dark eyes briefly surveyed the small, disagreeable girl. "You're lucky I'm used to babysitting. An awful lot of kids seem to think it's okay to run around alone after curfew." He then muttered something about patrol duty and unfair assignment as he fixed the blonde with a similar scowl. "Your face is going to stick like that if you keep it up."

"Right back at ya." As he shut his eyes in exasperation and sighed, Namie made to escape and follow in Jiraiya's direction, but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her and she bristled.

"Come on. You're accompanying me on patrol for a while."

* * *

Neither Minato nor Jiraiya returned in the designated time frame. As promised, Fugaku walked the young girl home, and he seemed immensely relieved when she scurried up the stairs to her apartment complex without so much as a word of farewell.

Namie waited at home alone for the next couple of hours, pacing and nervously watching the windows and front door for any signs of arrival.

It wasn't until near midnight that a sharp knock on the door brought any sense of comfort to her scrambled nerves. She hurried to the door and flung it open, eyes wide.

"Brother—" The figure standing behind the door was not her brother. It was a tall shinobi in a familiar uniform, with a minimalistic animal mask that concealed his features. Namie had half a mind to slam the door in the ANBU officer's face, but a nagging drag froze her in place. She'd never seen an ANBU operative in person before—Taji did not count, because the air around her was always maternal, warm and welcoming, not that of a cold and deadly killer. She hid her trepidation and spoke firmly. "Yes, ANBU-san?"

"Namikaze Namie," the ANBU spoke, voice muffled by his porcelain monkey façade, "you are to come with me to the Hokage's office immediately."

The girl's stomach swooped to her feet. A million worst-case scenarios whirled through her mind, from _what went wrong_ to _how could I possibly have messed this up any worse._

A shock of terror struck her when she considered the possibility that, maybe, just maybe, her actions had indirectly brought about her precious peoples' deaths. What if, by interfering, just by _meeting_ Kushina, by befriending her, something in the timeline had been shifted grossly out of place? What if Minato didn't succeed…what if he—

_What if he died?_

The ANBU spoke again, but his words were hazy. Namie felt her breath coming in quick shallow puffs and couldn't bring herself to calm down. '_It's my fault. It's all my fault. Whatever happened—I did it.'_ More muddled words were uttered towards her, but she was deaf to them, only shaking her head to deny her own thoughts.

For some reason, she felt her muscles seize up in fight-or-flight mode, and the notion to flee struck her.

But before she could make a move, a quick, sharp pain erupted in her neck and her surroundings drained away into an inky blackness.

* * *

The heavy veil of unconsciousness was slowly lifted, but a groggy haze remained. Namie couldn't recall such an unsettling sensation since the fuzzy days of her rebirth.

She awoke to the feeling of scratchy, stiff sheets encompassing her body, and the dry, sterile scent of a hospital. For the moment, she allowed her eyes to remain shut as she acclimated to the environment.

What happened? Why was she here?

The memories rose from the darkness of her subconscious and slowly weaved together into something concrete she could analyze.

Kushina had been kidnapped. She'd searched for Minato, only to find that he was nowhere in Konoha, then she'd spoken with Jiraiya, who agreed to go after the two. She waited for them to return, and then the Hokage sent an ANBU shinobi to collect her.

An ANBU that she presumed was the one to knock her out.

And now, she was recuperating in the medical ward of, presumably, the hospital.

'_Something went wrong. I probably said too much.'_ Namie concluded, opening her eyes—and immediately flinching underneath the blinding fluorescent lights. _'Shit. Shitshitshit.' _Her arm automatically moved to drape across her eyelids and protect them from the stinging brightness, and the moment she did this, something rustled nearby and a worried voice rang out.

"Namie!"

"Taji…san?" Her tongue felt heavy and thick in her mouth, and she found her words clumsy. "Where's—where's Minato? And Kushina-nee-chan?" She slowly moved her arm away and blinked up at the woman whose face was hovering above her own.

"They're both fine. What about _you?_ How do you feel?" There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, as if she hadn't seen proper sleep for days.

An immense relief flooded her at the mention of her brother and mentor. Worst-case scenario had been avoided. She closed her eyes and breathed out calmly, knowing that—whatever was to come, she could face it, because the people she cared about were still alive.

_They were still alive. _

"Weren't you on a mission?" Namie deflected tiredly.

"It's done. I came back yesterday morning." Taji smoothed out the girl's hair, pushing the messy golden strands back from her face, and began to run a diagnostic jutsu.

Yesterday? Just how long had she been out? "Taji-san, I'm confused." She admitted, opening her eyes to the faint green glow of chakra.

The woman paused and caught her blue gaze with an odd look, as if she felt exactly the same way, but then she returned her attention to assessing the girl's health. "I…can't explain it. I'm to take you to the Hokage." Her tone was careful, and a little rueful.

For the past three days, the girl's ward had been kept under close watch by her ANBU associates—ever since the kidnapping and subsequent return of the Uzumaki child, which had turned into one headache of a fiasco, largely for the reason that it had gone unnoticed by all except Namikaze Minato, his younger sister, and the Sannin Jiraiya, who'd organized for a search unit as soon as he confirmed the situation.

A group of shinobi from Kumogakure had infiltrated Konoha in order to secure what they apparently thought to be the current Ninetails jinchuuriki—though, Uzumaki Mito had not yet passed on the status of container to the younger redhead. Despite that, the fact that she was an Uzumaki was a viable reason to kidnap her on its own.

It would have been understandable to have Jiraiya and his genin student alone involved in the matter, but…Namikaze Namie was an anomaly. Her story—as provided by Jiraiya— was plausible, but did not entirely corroborate with the two genins' separate reports. There was no logical reason for a child like her to know what she mentioned to him. Not only that, but her behavior was reported as unusual by the ANBU shinobi that had been tasked to accompany her to the Hokage.

It was initially believed that she was under the influence of a genjutsu cast by the invading Kumo nin, but there was no evidence of this. The second conjecture was that she was a spy herself, but after being observed by an operative from the Interrogation division, this possibility was also eliminated.

The ruling was that the child was innocent and her loyalties remained with Konoha—something Taji would have vouched for from the beginning, had she been present. If she_ was_ a turncoat, then why on earth would she choose to alert one of the _Sannin?_

But this intense observation had brought two points of interest to light: Namie's possession of a curious mental state, and the chakra reserves that were disproportionate to her age. Taji wasn't informed of the fine details, but had long since realized the girl was smarter than she let on. Like her brother, she was rapidly approaching the level of a genius.

"Looks like everything is in order. I'm glad. Are you ready to go see Hokage-sama?" She asked the smaller girl with a light smile, noting the way her expression all but glared the words _I don't want to go._ She offered her hand.

"…Yeah." Namie gently accepted it.

* * *

Sarutobi Hiruzen had never impressed Namie as someone to be feared, despite the fact that he was an astoundingly powerful shinobi with the title of Hokage. He'd come across as a slightly strict but caring grandfatherly type who loved his village and the villagers within to a fault.

But when she stood before him in his dimly-lit office, alone (though there were most certainly hidden ANBU nearby), he may as well have been her executioner.

Her fate was all but sealed; she could feel it in his stare. They'd figured something out and there was no way she could camouflage herself any longer.

'_I definitely said too much. It was a mistake talking to Jiraiya. Has this guy already consulted with his council of elders? Does Danzo know? What's the verdict?'_

"Don't look so frightened, child," were the first words he spoke. "No one is here to harm you."

'_Yeah. Try saying that in my situation, Sandaime-san.'_ Namie relaxed regardless, if only out of exhaustion, and slowly pressed her fingers into the hem of her blue dress.

"Hokage-sama, why am I here?" Her words were spoken evenly, with care.

Most children would be standing in awe in their esteemed village leader's presence, Sandaime noted. Yet this child was cutting straight to the chase, without even a minute trace of admiration in her worried visage. The reports were accurate—she didn't act like a six-year-old whatsoever. Since that was the case, there was no way he could condescend to her and treat her as one if he wanted to make any progress.

He was accustomed to it. Every so often, there came along such a child from the Hyuuga or Uchiha clans. Even the Nara. But…clanless geniuses were a rarity. His former student Jiraiya had already lauded Namikaze Minato's skill—two from the same bloodline was even more unique.

"Namikaze Namie—Namie-kun—it has come to my attention that, had you not taken the actions you did, we may have lost an important member of our society." When he spoke her name, she glanced at him tentatively. Most of the brightness in the room was due to the sun outside, behind the man's back, so his face was cast in shadows.

"Kushina-nee-chan." She acknowledged quietly, forcing her voice to waver with emotion. His tone was not what one would expect from an elder speaking to a child, though it was still mild. If she were a genin, it would have fit the situation, but typically Academy student were not addressed as if they were tiny adults. She would have to tread carefully and act her (outward) age.

"Yes, Uzumaki Kushina. I understand you two are close?"

Namie nodded—the action erring on bashful—allowing her lowered gaze to wander along the worn floorboards and trace the lazy patterns countless scuffing footsteps created.

"How would you describe your relationship?"

"She's like a big sister."

The Hokage nodded. "I see. Then it's no wonder you reacted the way you did. How, may I ask, did you come to the conclusion that she was being kidnapped?"

There it was. Namie raised her gaze and met the older man's eyes only briefly.

On her way to his office, she'd considered a handful of options to present the man. One was the obvious that he expected: that she was a child prodigy able to deduce the situation from only a few clues, and the second was that she possessed a sensory ability. The third option was to play dumb, but it was far too late for that, and the fourth was to confess her foreknowledge—a definite no-go. If she relied on the latter, the village would destroy her, burn her like a witch at the stake.

She didn't want to risk it.

None of the options would return a desirable outcome. But if she chose the second option, she could remain under the radar and avoid the brand of "special." That was the last thing she wanted, with unsavory characters like Orochimaru and Danzo in the vicinity. But it seemed to be unavoidable at the moment.

It was time to see if she had the spirit of a silver-tongued devil.

"No, sir, I didn't." She admitted honestly, slowly, raising her gaze. It wasn't her conclusion, after all, it was canon fact.

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and folding his fingers together as he assessed the girl. "What do you mean by that?"

"It was a…feeling." Namie began solemnly, trying to recall a similar concept from her previous life. "When I picked up a strand of Kushina-nee-chan's hair, it was like I could feel it happening." What was it called? It slipped her mind. It was some type of extra-sensory perception. Chakra sensors were of a similar vein, she figured, hoping it wasn't too much of a long shot.

Hiruzen provided a small nod. The girl's explanation upheld the statement that the Uzumaki's location had been revealed by her idea to leave a trail of chakra-infused hair in her wake.

"And what exactly could you feel?"

Namie paused for effect, eyebrows furrowing. "I could feel Kushina-nee-chan being taken away from Konoha."

From her description, it appeared she possessed a sensory ability. Yet, something wasn't quite adding up. It was a matter he would bring before the council once all of the reports were filed for cross-referencing.

He nodded coolly and allowed a small smile. "I see."

'_I'm sure you do. Now just convince yourself I'm not a genius.'_ She observed him unsurely, eyebrows still knit together. It was perfectly fine lying about a skill at such a young age—even if it was a barefaced lie straight to the Hokage himself. She had no qualms with it and she would find a way out of it later. It was doable, so long as he didn't pin her as a subject of interest. Perhaps it would pay to let her grades fall into decline for a while.

The Hokage fixed her with a level stare and issued one more question. "Will you tell me why you sought out your older brother with this matter before anyone else?"

A small, fond grin slowly spread across her face. "Because my brother is the best shinobi I know." She meant every word she said.

With that, it seemed she successfully escaped further scrutiny.

* * *

As soon as the small blonde was dismissed, the Hokage summoned the Yamanaka that had been studying the girl's mind over the past few days. Since she was so young, she'd been handled gently, and the fact that her thoughts had been skimmed through by the Interrogation Department had been scoured from her memories. Oftentimes, the mental stress inflicted by a Yamanaka's technique was too great of a burden for children, and it left them traumatized and unable to function properly as shinobi, so this method had been adopted to ensure negative effects did not occur.

During war time, even the young were not spared from conflict. Several opposing factions had taken to utilizing them as Trojan horses to gain the upper hand, and because of this, extra precautions had to be taken, even during the periods of disarmament when nations who felt slighted attempted to retaliate. It was the basis behind the idea that perhaps Namie had been placed under a genjutsu, or worse—brainwashed.

However, none of that had been the case. What they'd discovered was far more interesting.

"She is certainly an unusual child. You say it was indicated by the structure of her mind that her mental age far exceeds her physical age, but despite that, she upholds a childlike farce." Hiruzen summarized, recalling the child's shift in personality in his presence as he sought his pipe and drew from it contemplatively. It was a valiant attempt, but those that were not highly skilled in the matter always failed to cover certain tells. The fact that she'd put on a convincing show, regardless, only proved that she possessed intelligence impossible for her age.

"Yes, Hokage-sama, that is correct. However, there exists the possibility that she has separated her adult and child mentalities and is unaware of the other's existence. It's a form of compartmentalization my unit has encountered before in various instances." The Yamanaka confirmed. His expression turned momentarily perplexed. "That does not account for her ability to deflect my team's search during certain moments."

"Was there no evidence of a seal locking the memories away?" Hiruzen questioned.

"We asked for Jiraiya of the Sannin's involvement, as you suggested, and he reported there was no evidence of fuinjutsu tampering. It may possibly be a secret family technique, but as she isn't from a clan, there is doubt. A newly-erupted kekkei genkai was also considered, but as her bloodline lacks a record, this is also highly doubtful." There was a slight pause. "May I request…continued observation of the child? I have never seen anything quite like this."

"I believe that would be for the best." The Hokage declared.

Namikaze Namie was indeed an anomaly. But whether she would become an asset or threat to Konoha remained to be seen.

* * *

**A/N: **Aaaaand we've reached a turning point in the story. I'm a little nervous about taking this route, but originally I had totally different plans for Namie. This was actually one of my favorite chapters to write, though.

Fun fact: in this chapter's initial draft, there was a scene with Namie and all of the Sannin interacting-but in the end it didn't flow well and no longer had a purpose in what I have planned later on.

Wow, I think the previous chapter received more reviews than any other. I'm glad! And hot damn it's over 200 follows already?

Many thanks for the faves/follows/reads to you silent supporters. And reviewers: **Yayy, SilverRider09, MythologyGirl, Moka-girl, LuzElvaParra17, coronadomontes, KisaragiMarru, Ox King, BakaAndTensaiProductionz, Bananarock509, Sethera, Kasuke. Hagase, Fk306, lilnudger82, Flor, moon so bright, Redleafs16 **and **Justadream1**. Thanks for all your comments and well wishes!

I think certain things commented on in reviews were probably answered with this chapter so no specific replies this time (and if it couldn't be answered it was because I could just go on and on into spoilerific territory which I try to avoid).


	10. Nine: Changes, Distance

Uzumaki Kushina hovered uncertainly outside of the Namikaze sibling's apartment with her hand halfway raised to knock on the door. It was the first time she'd been to visit the place, and after everything that had happened over the past week, her nerves were a bit frazzled.

That, and, when she considered the possibility that she would run into Minato, a mild warmth rose to her cheeks and stubbornly remained. Her hand absently stroked a few strands of scarlet hair at the memory.

She couldn't help but view him in a different light after he'd come to her rescue—and succeeded. It was the first time he'd lent his aid.

He—the boy she'd once scorned for being a soft-hearted, flaky pansy—was _strong_ and _reliable._

And he had faith in her strength, as well.

But most important of all, he changed her heart.

At first, she regretted that she didn't wait at the training grounds just a few more moments for her blonde understudy, as the entire ordeal perhaps could have been avoided, but if that had been the case, she may never have discovered Minato's feelings.

It was the silver lining that transformed misfortune into a blessing.

The situation had caused unrest among Konoha's administration, and almost as soon as they two genin returned the village's outskirts with the Sannin Jiraiya and his search unit, who'd met up with them shortly after the incident's aftermath, the council of Elders as well as the upper clansmen of the Senju were in uproar. Both over the fact that the future jinchuuriki had been kidnapped when Mito's health was in a fragile state, and that Kumogakure had successfully infiltrated their borders and whisked away a refugee that could very well have been one of their natives.

She'd been prepared to become the next container for the Kyuubi since the day she'd learned of her role, but now she realized the matter was pressing down upon her. Uzumaki Mito would not last through the month and the sealing ritual was scheduled to take place within what could only be the oncoming days.

ANBU security had been placed upon her to ensure that a second kidnapping attempt did not occur and that she would remain within Konoha until the Bijuu transfer was completed.

Her movement was limited and ran under a curfew as soon as the sun set, but at the very least she was able to move freely in the residential area during daytime. She wasn't quite certain why she'd ended up at this particular home, but the visit was long overdue.

Kushina hadn't met with Namie since their training session preceding the kidnapping, and the two hadn't exchanged a word since. She'd only recently discovered that the girl's oft-mentioned brother was _Minato_, even.

'_I wonder if she thinks I'm the one who ditched her? She gets kinda bratty when she's mad. She wouldn't know about the kidnapping, either, since it's a pretty hush-hush matter…'_ She recalled the first time she hadn't been present to meet the girl and squirmed guiltily. It had only been a harmless prank—she planned on jumping from a tree and ambushing the girl to test her reflexes, but the plan was spoiled the moment the little blonde burst into tears.

But, she'd grown since then. At least, she hoped.

'_Man, she might really hate me.'_ The redhead rubbed at her head in agitation, and sighed. '_Better get this over with quick, then!'_ She lifted her hand, prepared to knock on the door, but in the same instant, it creaked open.

"Oh," a startled brunette woman breathed as she prepared to step out, only to see a surprised redhead standing in her path. She blinked for a moment, at a loss, before recognition crossed her features. "You're…Kushina-chan, right?" She smiled politely.

There was a rustle, and when Kushina glanced past the woman's form, she spotted a shock of yellow hair that, at that height, could only belong to Namie. In a moment, the blonde girl poked her head out the door as well.

"Kushina-nee-chan?" She spoke plainly, expression revealing no single trace of what the redhead had been dreading.

Kushina bowed to the woman—the siblings' guardian, she realized—and then offered her name. "That's right. Uzumaki Kushina. You must be Taji-san?" After speaking to the older woman, she cast an uncertain grin towards her small friend.

"I am. It's nice to finally meet you." After the genin replied likewise, Taji's eyes briefly scanned the perimeter, and a knowing gleam in her eyes revealed that she was aware of the ANBU tailing the young jinchuuriki-to-be from the shadows. A small smile creased her lips as she glanced down at Namie, who hovered near her elbow and clung to her shirt. "Are you here for this one?"

"Brother isn't here," the girl offered, blinking—and then bristling slightly when Taji reached down to pet her hair. "And—um—Taji-san said I can't train with you for a while, Kushina-nee-chan."

"Ah, really?" Kushina laughed slightly, rubbing the back of her head. It wouldn't surprise her if the woman disapproved of the situation—she'd been worried about that from the start. It had only been a matter of time until her parental figure intervened. "Then, it's a good thing, because I actually can't train you for a while either, 'ttebane! I was just gonna ask if you wanted to get some ramen with me."

Namie looked up at Taji, seeking permission, but the older woman sighed and shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, Kushina-chan. Namie's due in for a check-up at the hospital right now. But if you don't mind waiting for her, you're welcome to come along."

When the redhead fidgeted, Namie observed her curiously. It wasn't like her to act nervously around others, but then again, she hadn't seen her interact with adults before. '_Much less the caretaker of her crush.'_ A knowing smirk pulled at the young girl's lips. "Yeah, why don't you come with us, Kushina-nee-chan?"

"I'll pay for lunch afterwards." Taji offered when the other girl continued to look unsure.

Kushina had intended on speaking with Namie alone, but she supposed she would get another chance. There was no way she could turn down a free lunch offer. "Well—when you say that, I can't say no. Let's get going! C'mon, kid." With a grin, she reached out and looped arms with the blonde, dragging her forwards. Namie stumbled, but followed her nonetheless.

At least the atmosphere was comfortable.

By the way the older girl behaved, Namie gathered that she was unaware of her role during the kidnapping situation. Minato hadn't spoken a word of said situation, either, aside from a few vague hints that he'd been speaking with Kushina recently, but it made sense. The Hokage was keeping everything concerning the kidnapping confidential because he still didn't quite trust her. The two genin most likely didn't know of her involvement, but she couldn't be certain. Probably, it was in her best interest to just keep it all to herself.

_'Kushina's going to become the jinchuuriki soon,'_ Namie realized, heart twinging slightly as she glanced up at her friend. The girl was walking briskly, in her usual excited manner, forcing the blonde to match her pace or else she would be dragged—and she didn't put it past the older girl to jerk her around like a ragdoll. She was speaking animatedly about something Namie wasn't quite focusing on, using both hands to emphasize her words. Each time she raised her voice, she had the habit of shifting her head in such a way that her long hair smacked into the blonde's face. The way she was behaving now, Namie never would have believed she'd endured so much pain when she first moved to the village. When she became the jinchuuriki, how would she be viewed, then? _'How will she change?'_

Now that the kidnapping was over, that event was the next in line. She couldn't quite recall how the village treated Kushina as a whole, but from what she could recall, the girl seemed perfectly content as an adult. She would have Minato after all, and (at some point, she recalled) Sasuke's mother as a friend. And herself, as well. For those reasons, she was certain the redhead's life as a young Bijuu container would be much more fortunate than Naruto's would be. At the very least, she couldn't detect even a slight bit of animosity or distrust from her guardian towards the redhead.

"So, Kushina-chan, are you going to participate in the chuunin exams?" Taji commented during a brief lull of silence as she trailed behind the two girls, watching them fondly.

"Yeah, we haven't even talked about that yet. Minato's going with Ayase and Akimichi Chouza." Namie added, grinning proudly as she usually did when her sibling was involved. She briefly realized she'd never heard Kushina talk about her own team, and wondered if she was even part of one. She knew the girl advanced through the rankings and became renowned in Konoha, but the little details of the matter were a complete mystery. "And I'm gonna watch. I want to see you both go."

Kushina smiled a little hesitantly before speaking flippantly, "Nah, not this time! I'm not really ready for it yet, y'know?"

"Huh? But you're so strong." The blonde reacted doubtfully, shrugging. It would have been an interesting turn of events if she and Minato ended up competing.

"Who is your jounin sensei, by the way?" Taji wondered.

"Koemi-sensei from the Senju compound. I've had some guidance from Mito-baa-sama, too, though."

Namie watched the two kunoichis' exchange, pleased that Kushina seemed more comfortable now. But she was also a bit surprised, as this was new information—during training, they rarely spoke about their personal lives. It was a pleasant change.

And, she supposed, the redhead would only get closer to her family from this point on.

* * *

After they left Kushina in a waiting area, Taji led Namie down one of the long, glaringly white hospital hallways—one Namie had never been through during the few times she'd accompanied her guardian to work—that seemed slightly isolated compared to the rest of the building. There were only a handful of nurses around, and the few rooms present were either silent with sleeping patients or devoid of them altogether.

Namie's skin prickled. This wasn't the childcare wing she should have been taken to for a basic check-up.

"Taji-san...where are we going?" She glanced up sharply, wasted no time seeking answers.

The brunette's fingers tensed ever-so-slightly around her hand, but that small reaction alone was all the girl needed to confirm the situation.

The woman's dark eyes met her questioning gaze evenly, revealing nothing. "There's a specialist that wants to see you today."

"Is this about what happened?" Her insides squirmed. _'This is probably about that fake sensory ability. I hope that's all, at least.'_

"Hmm…you could say that." A faint, inscrutable smile crossed her guardian's face. "Don't look so worried; no one will hurt you."

Her heart missed a beat. Namie couldn't help but feel that her smile—and claim—was forced.

Whatever this situation was, it was out of Taji's hands. She knew that much. That meant it had something to do with the upper echelon of Konoha.

Her fears were renewed when Taji prompted her to enter the room at the very end of the hallway alone—a room that contained an ANBU guard and another official-looking yet youthful shinobi with short, dirty blond hair. Probably, he was no older than she'd been as an adult.

"Hello, Namie-chan! My name is Yamanaka Inori. Please, take a seat here." The blond gestured to the stool across from his own chair with a small, affable smile as Taji quietly shut the door, locking her into the closed space.

'_Yamanaka.'_ Namie immediately tensed at hearing the name, glanced briefly at the ANBU who didn't move a muscle, then swallowed down her nerves before pushing herself forwards and sitting down without a word. _'This isn't about the sensory ability. This is…I think this is bad.'_

"Inori-san, I thought I was coming for a check-up today?" She wondered, inflecting her voice into a curious, innocent question. Her palms began to sweat.

"And so you are. This is a…well, it's a mental check-up, to be honest. It's come to my attention that your mind is of particular interest to Konoha." He spoke with a practiced smile, tapping his fingers silently against the armrests of his chair, as he stared straight into her eyes.

"What do you mean?" She queried, eyes widening slightly as she put up her age-appropriate act. She set her hands atop her legs tensely and attempted a grin.

The man's visage remained amiable—and unreadable. Typical for shinobi. "Well, for one, the fact that you were able to realize when Uzumaki Kushina was taken."

Namie froze.

Inori observed her calmly before continuing in a cordial tone that revealed nothing. "You claimed it was similar to a sensory ability, but that's not quite it, is it?"

She worked to formulate a proper response, "I—what? I don't get it—"

He held up a hand upon seeing the girl's shocked expression and shook his head. "You don't appear to be a sensor, but that isn't what this is about. You have a considerable amount of spiritual chakra stored up—not just for your age, but even for an average shinobi. Not only that, but your mental state is…_unique._" He punctuated his sentence by pointing to her forehead.

"What do you mean—" Namie started, feigning ignorance to mask her discomfort, but was once again interrupted as he filled her in on the details of what transpired after Kushina's kidnapping. How the Hokage had sanctioned a thorough search and investigation of her mind, and how she was still under surveillance.

Once the man said his piece, an indignant rage replaced her fear, shattering the childlike front. '_How can they do that? Just—just dig into my mind without my consent? "Under the Hokage's orders" my ass! What about basic human rights?'_ Her eyebrows drew together and she curled her hands into fists, pressing them tightly against her thighs to stem her anger, so tightly that her tensed shoulders trembled. '_But—what did they find out? Nothing about my past life or anything important, obviously, or else another department would no doubt be involved, so…why am I here?'_

The Yamanaka noted her behavior and nodded thoughtfully. "You really do understand what's going on, don't you?"

"_No_," Namie confessed honestly, squinting up at him. "Why—why tell me all of this?" There was no reason to enlighten her when they'd taken such precautions to hide it from her in the first place. It wasn't adding up in her mind. He had an ulterior motive.

The Yamanaka maintained a cool, level gaze as he looked upon the girl. "You're astoundingly advanced for a little six-year-old. Your Academy performance proves that—well, except for your kunoichi class, of course!" He uttered a small, amused chuckle before speaking again, evenly. "You have a strong mind. So strong, in fact, that you successfully diverted my clan's mind probing technique." He explained, as if she hadn't even spoken, while leaning forwards in his seat. "Were you aware of that?"

"…I'm just normal." She disagreed, scowling at the tiled floor. _'I knew those Academy scores would come back to bite me in the ass.'_

"You aren't in trouble or anything, you know. I just thought it would be best if you knew everything upfront." Inori shrugged, and Namie realized he was the type of person who liked to hear himself talk—and had a lot to say. And wasn't very considerate towards children.

There was nothing she could do now to help herself. He'd gone through this entire spiel for something, so she resigned herself to just sitting there and waiting for him to get to the point.

"I want to keep observing your mind, if you'll let me."

And there it was.

'_He wants me as a test subject,'_ she realized, thoughts whirling. _'I'm just an obstacle and he wants to find way to break through, if I really managed to bounce the Yamanaka techniques like he said. For future reference or something like that.'_ It wasn't a favorable situation. She possessed information that would cast further suspicion on herself, and she didn't doubt the Yamanaka sitting before her would be able to locate it if he was determined—even if that wasn't his main objective. No one knew about what _she_ knew, after all, but if it ever fell into the wrong hands…

There was nothing she could do about this—she was cornered. It was better to accept the loss and save her pride for a time she truly needed it. Namie forced her shoulders to relax as she took a deep breath. "Do I have a choice?"

A knowing smirk pulled at the man's lips as he set his elbows on his legs and rested his chin on his palm. "Two, actually." His eyes drifted sideways to the ANBU shinobi before snapping back to the girl's. "The council's verdict is that it would be best for you to either participate in my study, or to take the upcoming genin exam and become an ANBU trainee when you pass. You're clearly talented enough already."

That explained the masked man's presence.

Namie ignored the ANBU and regarded the blond man with a pinched expression, noting that he left no room for her to be left alone and to go free. Her stomach churned at the prospect of both options. Against her will, she'd already been labeled as a young prodigy and if it wasn't that, a _guinea pig._ All because of one small, stupid mistake she'd made in a rushed panic. She wouldn't be surprised if Danzo were to become involved in her fate somehow in the near future, since the _council_ was involved—though she dearly hoped to avoid that matter. Even so, these were her only choices, and she'd mercifully been given the lesser of two evils.

"I'm not talented at all." Namie rejected firmly, though her attitude was resigned. "Alright, Inori-san. I'll turn my mind over to you."

Inori smiled genuinely, eyeing the girl for a moment, then clapped his hands. "Wonderful! We're done here, for now. I'll have you come back in one week's time, in this same place. Keep in mind this is a confidential matter, Namie-chan."

"Just Namie." The girl grumbled, rising to her feet.

When she exited the room, Taji hurried to her side and regarded the girl with a troubled expression—one which Namie met with a disenchanted stare. She continued down the hall briskly, without a word to the older woman, and scarcely paid attention when she heard her footsteps follow after her.

"Namie—" She started, but the word was abrupt and she didn't bother to continue. Instead, she kept her silence and walked beside the girl with downcast eyes.

The blonde's face remained impassive and she kept her lips pressed tightly together until she reached the waiting room where they'd left her redheaded friend. When the girl's violet eyes met her own, an apologetic smile morphed her blank façade.

"Sorry, Kushina-nee-chan. I don't feel very well. Think I'll have to pass on ramen."

"Oh…" Kushina's eyes widened briefly, and the grin that had been quirking the edges of her lips dropped. A crease of worry marred her brow, but she kept her complaints to herself and nodded slowly. "That's okay. We'll go next time for sure!" Her grin was back full-force, now, but lacked in its usual brightness. Something had happened, she knew, but she was completely unaware of what, and it wasn't her place to ask.

After they parted ways outside of the hospital, Namie's gaze lingered in the direction the redhead departed. It was ironic, she thought, that she'd dug herself into this pit over concern for that very girl. She didn't regret it—she would do the same thing over again if it meant helping her friend, because she _cared._ But she began to wonder if maybe she was caring too much.

First and foremost, if she wanted to accomplish anything, she had to look out for _herself._

* * *

Namie regretted breaking her plans with Kushina.

Uzumaki Mito's funeral ceremony was announced to the village three days later and, while the information it implied wasn't publicly disclosed, it meant that the young redhead had become the nine-tailed beast's new jinchuuriki.

The funeral was a grand winter affair. Mito had been the Shodai Hokage's wife, after all, and an accomplished kunoichi in her own right—worthy of a majestic sendoff.

It seemed the entirety of Konoha was present, melding together like a pool of ink in their dark mourning attire to share farewells with the end of an era.

Namie kept close to her brother's side throughout the event, though she kept a sharp eye out for a familiar head of scarlet hair. She knew that Uzumaki Kushina would most likely not be in attendance, but that didn't mean she couldn't hope.

She recalled the girl's words, and felt that it would be a long while before she encountered the Red-hot Habanero again.

* * *

Minato attended the chuunin exams and passed with merit two months after the funeral.

Because of his promotion, Namie's brother was busier than ever, and yet another constant was removed from her life.

Taji was the only semi-consistent presence, but Namie suspected that perhaps she'd been tasked with keeping a watch on her as well, since she reported directly to the Hokage.

For the first time since the very early years of her childhood, she felt incredibly alone.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm so happy the feedback for the last chapter was overall positive! Oh and heads up, I'm going to start posting general review replies to my dreamwidth journal (link in profile, or if you wanna google it yourselves it's also called kettobase) because it's prettier, archived and more expressive, and I'll keep review replies with important info here in the A/N section. Also I'm keeping the thank-you section below because a few of you probably won't want to go through the trouble of linking away to another website just for a reply, so you will still get acknowledgement here!

Thanks for the faves/follows/reads, everyone! And my lovely reviewers, too: **Sethera, Kasuke. Hagase, Ox King, Bananarock509, Littlebirdd, xenocanaan, Anonymous (ch. 5), Anonymous (ch. 7), Anonymous (ch. 8), Anonymous (ch. 9), coronadomontes, MythologyGirl, Flor, LuzElvaParra17,** **Abundant E, nicoakatsuki, ****Jade Celandine, **and** 10th Squad 3rd Seat**.

**Kasuke. Hagase:** On the subject of Tsunade, I think Namie probably won't be running into her for quite a few years. I find it a little odd that the Sannin's actions weren't really mentioned during the 3rd war in canon, I mean what did they do? Regular soldier stuff or what? But Tsunade was most likely too messed up from Dan and Nawaki's deaths and with her hemophobia to really do much in the field as a medic. I think it was sometime before the 3rd war's start that she probably left Konoha with Shizune anyways. That's what I'm going with, anyways.

It's open-ended, really. If any one of you has any suggestions for what to do with Tsunade in this time period, or are just partial to her appearance sometime during this childhood arc, please share. Otherwise she probably won't get a cameo for a long while.

**Ox King:** Ohh I _knew_ this question would crop up sooner or later. A few reviewers have already commented on a Namie and Toboe possibility, but the truth is I do have some ship ideas I might work with. In the future I'm going to put up a handful of polls related to this story and possible pairings will be a topic for one! So the short answer here is nothing has been concretely decided yet.

**Anon from chapter 8: **Yep! For you and anyone else wondering, Namie is approximately 4 years ahead of Kakashi's generation. 6+ years behind Minato's/the parents' generation.

And on that note, Kakashi, Rin and Obito are all going to be the same age in this setting.


	11. Interlude - Minato

**Interlude—Minato**

* * *

Seven long years passed by since the deaths of Minato's parents. His memories of them were becoming hazy fragments; he'd only been six when they died and each year after that drew in an abundance of new memories that replaced the old.

However, some moments would never leave his mind—they were boldly imprinted and would remain with him as long as he could help it because the only concrete memento he had of his parents was a single photograph of the family and it was the very same one he'd shown his sister.

His parents' several expressions were among those particular moments—not the smiles immortalized on film, but the faces they revealed when praising him or sharing a joke. The ones they'd displayed when comforting him when he'd fallen and gotten hurt. The ones he'd been frightened of because he'd done something wrong and gotten in trouble. The ones he could never share with Namie.

He remembered his fathers roguish, slightly mischievous grin, and his mother's livid, terrifying glare that had his knees quaking most poignantly because they'd both been from the day his father decided to go under his wife's nose to teach him how to throw shuriken. He'd earned a few scars and spilled a few more tears, and when his mother found out she was furious. Yet despite her anger, she'd also comforted him with her famous sunny, dimpled smile as she dressed his wounds.

Beyond that, there was only static. His most recent memories of his parents included Namie—unborn at the time.

He recalled his father's final words, from the day he'd departed to the battlefield that also served as his grave:

_Take care of your mother and sister, Minato. Help her grow into someone we can be proud of, as we are proud of you. So, so proud. You're going to become a great Hokage one day—that's still your dream, right? _

He recalled the final words his mother had spoken to him, only moments before they'd received the news of his father's death:

_What do you think your sister should be named, Minato? I'm still not sure, and Sei and I just can't settle on one we both like. If you pick one, I'm sure he'll agree no matter what. So, what do you think?_

After cleaning his mother's gravestone, Minato set a small bouquet of white anemones beside it. They were her favorite flowers. It wasn't often that he was able to come and visit, but when he did, he was sure to bring them. Earlier that day, he'd gone by the Memorial Stone to visit his father since he lacked a grave of his own and left his favorite snack as an offering. It was habit by now to bring small gifts to entertain their spirits while he updated them on daily occurrences.

"Hi, Mom." He began, a fond smile on his lips as he knelt beside the stone slab. "It's been a while since last time. I'm a chuunin now. Didn't Dad also make chuunin by my age?" His question was met with silence, but he believed that his mother could still hear him, wherever her soul may be. Namie also spoke to the graves when she visited, he noticed, so she must have thought the same.

"Jiraiya-sensei's taken me on as an apprentice now. He's going to let me sign the toad summoning contract. As for Namie…" he paused, briefly wondering at her change in attitude over the past few weeks. She seemed a bit ill, and was often taken to the hospital for appointments. "She's in her second year at the Academy. I'm taking care of her, and so is Taji, but I wish I could be around more. She's really talented with taijutsu. But, sometimes I'm a little worried. She doesn't really have any friends…Well, there's one, but she's not her age. She's actually, well…"

He continued on, giving the same report to her as the one he shared with his father, concerning daily life, how many missions he'd completed (he was assigned his first official A-rank just today and was preparing to depart with Ayase and two other chuunin) and how his teammates were faring. He also shared news of Kushina, albeit in vague words. Most of what concerned her was confidential information and could not be treated lightly. But he did, at least, mention how he'd oftentimes seen Namie and Kushina running together around Konoha.

At first, learning that the two were acquainted had been quite the shock. The two, while somewhat similar with their tomboyish ways, couldn't be more different. Kushina was a spitfire and Namie was practical and a bit reserved. Not to mention the age gap. But, despite the odds, the two had come to accept each other. It was no wonder Namie was improving so rapidly in the taijutsu field.

He still wondered if Namie ever planned to share that friendship if he hadn't found out on his own.

He also wondered whether or not the redheaded Uzumaki had some sort of magnetic effect on the Namikaze siblings. What were the odds that they would both be attracted to her, although in different ways? He'd never met another Uzumaki, but it was quite possible that they all possessed a special property that had certain people gravitate towards them.

He wondered, idly, whether or not his parents would also feel the same way towards the girl, and a brief loneliness seized him when he realized he would never know.

Minato was pulled from his thoughts by a familiar presence lingering near the cemetery's entrance.

"Minato? Sorry to interrupt, but are you ready for the mission? We're meeting at the front gate in ten minutes." His Hyuuga teammate called, mindful that there were no other visitors she would disturb with her voice.

"Right. I'm coming." He replied, rising to his feet and brushing off his pants. He glanced once more at his mother's memorial before hurrying towards Ayase.

It was silly to feel lonely.

Even if his parents were gone, he wasn't alone. He had Jiraiya, and Ayase, and Ginta. He had Taji. He had his sister.

And now, he had Kushina.

* * *

**A/N:** Quick update for the short interlude and quick note as well. Next chapter will probably be up in a week or so! Review replies for both the previous chapter and this break chapter will be posted on my dreamwidth journal (kettobase) sometime before the next update because summer allergies and headaches have thrown me for a loop and I haven't had a chance to get those done yet.

Thanks for the faves/follows/reads! And also to you amazing reviewers:

**Cytokinesis, Littlebirdd, MythologyGirl, Bananarock09, Redleafs16, 10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat, coronadomontes, Sethera, Kasuke. Hagase, Vaughn Tyler, Flor**, **Guest, Deluxemclovin, **and **thelonelylovechild. **

_**THANK YOU ALL FOR GETTING **__**LATERALITY ****TO 100 REVIEWS I'M VERY EXCITED ABOUT THIS!**_


	12. Ten: Approach, Realization

Pinpricks. A veil of static white-noise. A barrage of fleeting blips of memories she felt had been misplaced—some familiar, others not.

Every time Namie was released from the Yamanaka mind jutsu and returned to reality, that was the only way she could describe the sensation. It was uncomfortable. It was invasive, but only because she wasn't sure just what Inori was seeing when he dove into her thoughts. He never commented on the content, either—not once during the past six months she'd been under his study.

At the very least, it was never her foreknowledge of _their_ world—she was certain of that, because if he _had_ stumbled across that information, the Hokage, and definitely Torture and Interrogation (and probably more Yamanakas), would become involved.

She shook her head to clear the vertigo as she cast a weary glance towards her jounin senior. "Do we _have_ to do this before I go to the Academy? It's really draining, you know."

The young blond continued to jot notes down, entertaining the girl's grousing with a brief, amused smirk. "It's only once a week."

"And why is he still here?" She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, towards the ANBU with the porcelain monkey mask that was regularly present during her appointments. "Do you think I'm dangerous? I'm _seven._" She scoffed.

"You sure complain a lot, Namie-chan." The man hummed.

"Didn't I say to drop the honorific? And I'm not a morning person." A level stare was aimed at the Yamanaka as she spoke.

Inori finished writing his report and rolled up the scroll as he eyed the girl in an exasperated manner. He'd never expected her to be such a disagreeable brat. "To answer your questions, one: I'm a busy person and mornings are the best time for this. Two: no, you aren't dangerous, but we have to follow certain protocols. Three: yes, you did, but 'Namie-chan' is _much_ cuter and serves to offset your rough personality." He smiled winsomely, flashing his pearly whites.

As usual, he liked to hear his own voice. _'Creep.' _Namie simply gave him a cool glare in return. "What did you find out today, anyways?"

"That you're as stubborn as always?" The blond commented lightly, but refused to divulge anything further. He tapped the scroll on his desk thoughtfully before blinking over at the girl, expression unreadable. "There's no need to meet next week. I have a mission that'll take a while, so I'll be sure to let you know when the following appointment is to take place. Alright?"

The younger blonde rose to her feet, sighing. She didn't know why she expected him to say anything different, this time. "Fine. See you around, Inori-san. Monkey."

Once the girl slid the thin door shut behind her and her loud footsteps faded, the man in the ANBU mask held his hand out for the scroll. "That's the first I've heard of you having a mission in the past year, Inori." A deep, youthful voice rang out, muffled behind the cold porcelain.

The Yamanaka gave a slight shrug as he handed off the report scroll and rose to his feet, stretching out his stiff joints "It was a lie. But you saw how tired she looked, right?"

Monkey tucked the scroll safely away into one of his back pockets and nodded. "Aftereffect of the jutsu?"

"You're so perceptive, Saru!" The blond grinned, to which he could almost see the eyeroll behind the other man's mask. "She was starting to look sick. Her mind may be strong, but her body isn't and she needs breaks every now and then or it'll be counterproductive for all of us." Inori explained, waving a hand dismissively.

"I see. Are you coming to see Hiruzen this time, or are you staying to look in on patients?"

"You _still_ call him that?" Inori sighed, pushing his fingers through his short hair and mussing it without a care. He didn't bother awaiting a reply that wouldn't even come and began heading out into the hallway. "The latter. It _is _a busy day."

Without another word, the two parted ways.

* * *

Namie barely managed to suppress a yawn as she lazily glanced around her classroom. Ever since the new year began and chakra control exercises, among other things, had been introduced, the talentless children were weeded out. It seemed a bit callous, but in such an efficient in-and-out shinobi training system, resources couldn't be wasted on those who would never prosper. The civilian life awaited those who couldn't improve.

She was simply grateful that she was one of the few who remained.

What was once two classrooms full of young shinobi-to-be was now a single classroom with half the seats occupied. She and Suzume were now the only kunoichi present among a handful of boys.

Even though these other children would most likely be in her graduating class and become a part of her genin team in the future, she didn't bother learning their names-though some commanded her attention more than others. There was one annoyingly nerdy kid with sunglasses who sat in the front near her perm-haired friend and always answered questions the chuunin teachers threw out. Her new desk mate was an irritatingly calm kid who was always chewing on some kind of wooden toothpick or dango skewer—he'd been part of the other class, she was certain, because most of her old classmates were gone. The majority of her new class consisted of the students from their sister class, in fact.

'_At least he doesn't bother me like the idiot dog kid.'_ Namie shrugged, setting her chin down atop her crossed arms, sprawled atop the desk, as the teacher droned on about what was going to be covered on their upcoming history test. Said Inuzuka brat had taken to avoiding her since their last encounter, so there were no distractions to occupy herself with.

It was all boring. She was receiving information she already knew, and didn't even need. They were all words she would scarcely make use of on paper.

Ever since the kidnapping incident and Hokage's ensuing surveillance, Namie had taken to rebelling, though in a small way. She continuously slacked off in her special kunoichi classes, happily dropped her core class ranking down a few notches, and intentionally held back during ninjutsu and weapons classes. But never taijutsu class—she had her pride, and it would never let her shame her favorite subject.

The teachers didn't think much of it, and if they did, they never expressed concern. She wasn't exactly what could be described as a teacher's pet or class favorite, what with the way she glared grumpily during lectures and slept or stared out the window when she lost interest, so they probably assumed she was finally getting her just desserts for her lack of effort. As long as she kept hers grades afloat, they let her be.

It didn't bother her. Training with Kushina was always much more enlightening than studying in the stuffy Academy anyways, and she was greatly looking forward to the time when she could reunite with her redheaded friend.

When the urge came to yawn again, Namie failed to suppress it. However, it was at that moment that the class was dismissed for recess and booted outside to socialize and work on interaction with others.

As per routine, the small blonde girl settled herself away from the groups of hyperactive children to avoid being roped into whatever tiring events they started up that afternoon. Usually, she spent her time passively watching. Others, she spent studying scrolls containing information about the history of Konoha. More often than not, she pretended to nap while contemplating her position in this world and what options were available to her. Today was a bit more windy than she liked and she was in no mood to hold down a windblown scroll or book pages, so she engaged in the latter.

"Hey."

But the day had other plans for her aside from the typical peace, it seemed.

When a child's voice sounded from somewhere above her head, Namie lazily opened an eye to see just who decided to intrude on her tranquility. It was her desk mate. The brunet stood over her with his hands in his pockets, looking detached with a calm expression and lazily half-lidded eyes, as if he hadn't just come over to interrupt her.

"Can I help you?" Namie sighed, opening her other eye to send him a sharp stare, not bothering to move from her comfortable slouched position against a tree. The boy didn't flinch, as most others did when she aimed her snipped tone at them—the one that openly read "piss off and go back to your lame friends."

"Wanna come play with us? We need an even number." The kid explained.

She glanced towards the group of children he pointed at, who were also looking her way—some more obviously than the others who tried their best to ignore her and failed.

"Why don't you just have someone sit out instead? Or pick someone else." Her gaze wandered across the closed-in expanse of the sandy playground. There were at least five others he could have approached. Two playing hopscotch close to the school building, one picking at bugs in the wet soil near the chain-link fence in the far corner, and three huddled close together under the shade of a nearby tree, reading a magazine of some sort and bickering. Well, they all looked to be more occupied than she was and even less interested, but that was no reason to approach her when she was pretending to nap.

"Because that wouldn't be fun." He responded easily, shrugging. "Besides, you never play with us."

"So?" She rolled her eyes skyward, observing the small, blotchy patches of clear blue sky that were visible between the oscillating tree leaves.

"Everyone says you're kinda scary, you know. But I told 'em you're not." The boy grinned around the wooden skewer in his mouth. "If I bring you over, Ebisu'll give me like six vouchers for free dango. I'll share them with you."

'_Ebisu?'_ Namie sat up straighter and glanced towards the group of children, brow furrowed. She'd been sure no known canon characters were in her year. There were two kids with dark sunglasses in the group, and she was sure one of them was Yama-something-or-other. That meant the other was Ebisu—probably the scrawny, shrimpy-looking one. Then, did that mean more minor characters were among them? She had no idea what they looked like as children compared to their adult counterparts, but maybe names would ring familiar.

"Oi, Genma, I told you Strawhead won't play!" Toboe's distinctively loud voice crowed. "She's no fun!"

'_Genma? As in…the chuunin exam Genma?'_ She sat up a little straighter as she peered up at her desk mate with a curious squint. The skewer between his teeth should have tipped her off, she realized—though later it would be a senbon. This guy was no doubt a smaller, cuter version of Shiranui Genma.

She was surrounded by canon characters and she hadn't even realized it.

It set her on edge.

For now, she would have to bear with it.

Namie slowly rose to her feet, brushing off the back of her dress with a practiced sigh—the usual sign that she was irritated with the ever-present children. "Well, as long as I get something out of it. Fine, I'll play."

She _did_ have a soft spot for sweets. Especially when they were free.

Most of the group displayed wide-eyed surprise as she approached them with her desk mate. The Inuzuka noticeably avoided meeting her gaze, looking discontent. Aside from the boys she'd already seen, there was another brunet with a red band around his face, across his nose, and another with gray hair. Suzume was also present.

"Ah, Ultra Perm. I didn't think you played with the boys." Namie couldn't help but blurt out in bemusement_. 'Miss Priss is actually more of a kid than I thought.'_

Suzume's face reddened as her lips pulled down into a frown. Before anything more could be said, she turned on her heel and hurried away with her nose in the air.

The blonde shrugged briefly before addressing the group as a whole. One less problem to worry about. "So, what are we playing? It better be worth my time or someone's gonna be sorry." She took a certain measure of joy in the hesitation her schoolyard bully attitude invoked from them.

Genma opened his mouth to speak, but one of the bespectacled boys quickly interjected, "_Is it true you're a disciple of the Red-hot Habanero?_" His words were spoken quickly, slurred together in his excitement, though the blonde caught the gist of his question-particularly the _Habanero_ part of it.

"H-huh?" Namie openly balked, jaw unhinging.

"Toriichi said he's seen you two training together, before." Glasses-kid clarified.

"_Ebisu!_" The gray-haired boy hissed with a violent thump to his friend's shoulder. He momentarily eyed the blonde girl, looked away, then glanced back, resigned. "I wanted to know how you got so good at taijutsu, so I followed you once. Is it true?"

Namie briefly noted that the shrimpy one with stark black glasses was indeed Ebisu before she crossed her arms and addressed the gray-haired boy roughly. "Why do you care, stalker?" Catering to a bunch of nosy kids was far from her list of priorities.

The gray-haired boy balked slightly when he was called out, but before he could defend himself, the Inuzuka spoke up.

"Yeah, who cares. Who's this 'Habanero,' anyways?" Toboe scoffed, crossing his arms.

"I just came to play a game." Namie frowned, setting her hands on her hips. For once, she agreed with the dog boy. She didn't know why they cared so much.

"Habanero-sama is a legend," the other boy with red-lined glasses piped up. "It's said she's the strongest kunoichi in Konoha."

The brunet with the red band across his face shrugged. "Come to think of it, I knew a guy whose brother got pulverized by her."

'_Habanero-_sama?_' _Namie bristled under the curious stares and then turned an accusing glance towards Genma. "What's with this Q&A? This isn't about a game at all, huh?"

The kid with the red sunglasses smirked while adjusting said object on the bridge of his nose. "Actually, the game was to find out if you're associated with the Red-Hot Habanero or not. We made a bet, and the winners get free dango for a week."

"Aoba," Genma complained, frowning. "You're not supposed to tell her that." Despite his words, he appeared entertained by the situation.

"What about _my_ free dango?" Namie challenged, eyes narrowing.

"Genma, you did _not_ bribe her with dango to get her over here," Toboe commented, looking unimpressed. "Are you really that easy, Strawhead?"

"I'd like to see you do better." Genma shrugged.

"You don't even have any to offer," added Ebisu, holding up a stack of voucher tickets that was no doubt the betting pool.

Namie squinted at the boy before snatching the vouchers out of his hand. When the others made to protest, startled by her sudden move, she rose up to her full height (which was no taller than even the shortest boy in the group) and frowned. "You're all wrong. Kushina-nee-chan is my _friend._ And betting on something like that is stupid." Despite her small stature, she _did_ have the reputation as the top taijutsu user in class, so they were wary to experience her wrath. "Actually, gambling at such a young age is dumb and illegal." Her eyes trailed down to the pack of tickets in her hand and she fanned them idly. "Ah, there's contraband here. Right here, in my hand. What do you think Sensei would say?"

"You wouldn't—" Aoba started, but was cut off by the one boy whose name Namie had yet to hear-one of the tallest ones, second to Genma.

"How about we make a new bet, then, and include you?" The others stared at him as if he'd spontaneously sprouted another head, while Namie glanced down at the vouchers thoughtfully.

"Continue." She decided coolly, raising her eyes to meet his.

Once he saw that he'd hooked her interest, the boy with the red band across his face explained. "Genma here is pretty good with throwing weapons, like senbon and kunai. I noticed you're not too bad, either, Namie-san. How about the two of you compete to see who can hit the most targets?" If the girl's sparring matches were anything to go by, she was the competitive type who couldn't resist a challenge.

She stared at him a moment, gauging his sincerity, before nodding in approval. "Okay. Let's talk prizes."

"If Genma wins, we all get our vouchers back. But if you win, you keep the lot."

Namie's lips split into a smug grin. "But, you see, I already _have_ the lot. What makes you think I'll hand it over?"

"Are you sure about that?"

"What do you—_oh._ You're sneaky." While the pile of coupons was once in her hand, it was now within the grasp of the spikey-haired boy. Namie set her hands on her hips and cocked her head slightly, feeling jilted and suddenly territorial over the offer for free snacks. "But...I like the sound of this. I'm in."

"Where are we going to get the tools though, Raidou?" Ebisu questioned.

"Are you kidding? The teachers are at lunch now and they don't even keep the storage room locked!" Toriichi interjected quickly, with a light scoff.

The spiky-haired boy, Raidou, nodded. "He's right. We've snuck some things out before when we were bored."

Genma shook his head. "You guys are criminals…" He sighed in response to the scathing look the blonde girl shot his way. "Anyways, I guess we're gonna do this. Better hurry so we don't get caught. Yuuichi-sensei will give us all extra lessons if we mess up."

'_Just extra lessons? For a petty theft?'_ Namie wondered dubiously as she eyed the group of boys.

"Alright. You guys stay here, we'll make it fast." Aoba decided.

"I'll handle lookout." Toboe offered up as he, Ebisu, Aoba, and Toriichi headed towards the building.

Namie glanced between the two boys she was left with, briefly considering how much trouble she would get into if she just beat them up and took the prize without having to participate in a stupid competition. Her knuckles cracked as she reflexively curled her fingers into her palms. Probably, she would go for Raidou first, since he was shorter than Genma, looked a little spacier, and currently had the coupons in his possession...

"Don't."

She whipped her head around, eyes narrowing slightly, as Genma spoke up. He chewed on the wooden skewer carefully before speaking again.

"You're the best at taijutsu in our class, but I don't think you could win a two-on-one fight."

'_I don't even know that much about him, but I guess he's not stupid.'_ Namie considered after rolling her eyes and crossing her arms again. He had a point.

Soon, the little group of thieves returned and the entire gathering hurried towards the training grounds where the targets were set up. Namie briefly wondered why the three teachers in charge of their class all took a lunch break at the same time when there were such crafty little kids wandering around outside. Maybe they just had a lot of faith in them. Either that or they didn't care.

The small training area was stationed behind the school, far enough away from any windows that it was out of the immediate notice. It was fenced off and locked up tight, but the resourcefulness of the boys revealed that there was a loose section of chain-link that they could easily squirm through. Once they were all within the area, save for Toriichi, who was keeping watch this time around, Toboe handed Genma and Namie two holsters filled with kunai each. She judged they had about a dozen weapons between them.

"Who's going first?" Raidou questioned.

"Rock-paper-scissors?" Genma asked, side-glancing the blonde, and when she nodded they faced each other and played out the game. The end result was rock to paper. "I guess it's me."

The group stood back as Genma extracted his kunai and prepared to launch them towards the straw target circles. "We're aiming for the bullseye for it to count, right?"

"Right." Aoba confirmed. "Whoever hits the most centers wins."

"Got it."

He swiftly released the weapons and the end result was two bullseyes, with three hitting the general vicinity of the middle and one bouncing off and landing uselessly in the dirt.

"Just two?" Toboe complained, looking unimpressed as he helped Genma collect his kunai. "Hope you didn't go easy on her 'cause she's a _girl._"

Namie made sure to knock her shoulder into the Inuzuka's as she passed him by and scoffed, "he has enough sense not to."

The chatter died down as she readied her aim and observed the targets. She'd gotten kunai-throwing tips from Minato, yet the heavy metal object still felt awkward within her grasp. She wasn't certain if it was because of her small hands or because what she was holding was a weapon of _death_, but her typical success rate of hitting was about fifty-fifty. She had faith she could bury at least two in the center of the closest target, and possibly one more in the next nearest mark.

She threw her first kunai, and it landed in the center of a target with a sound thunk. Her second missed the mark completely, but as she prepared to launch the third, Toriichi loudly interrupted. "Yuuichi-sensei's out! He's looking for us!"

The weapon tipped out of her hand as she startled, and everyone quickly began to scramble back towards the loose part of the fence. Since Namie was the farthest away, she was the last to trail after them.

"Wait! Don't just leave the kunai or they'll know someone took them!" Toboe hissed, motioning for the blonde to fetch the tools after squeezing through the small gap in the chain-link. "We'll put them back later but just get them!"

Namie clicked her tongue, but turned quickly on her heel and hurried towards the targets to retrieve the kunai.

Once she'd finished, she was the last left in the area. She quickly tucked the two kunai holsters into her large front pocket and rushed towards the opening in the gate. It was heavier than she'd expected. "Dammit!" She hissed, cursing her young age for the zillionth time, as she shoved her shoulder hard against the links and shimmied her way past, ignoring the way the hard metal dragged across her skin. As soon as she was mostly past it, the fence swung back and clamped around her ankle, sending her crashing to the hard ground.

Something twisted painfully around her knee area, but she ignored it and jerked her leg free before scrambling to her feet.

But as soon as she was up, a hand clamped down over her shoulder.

"Namie! What are you doing by the practice grounds? Not causing more trouble, I hope...that's the last thing you need with _your_ grades." One of the teachers—who she now knew as Yuuichi-sensei, a young chuunin with short-cropped dark hair and a perpetually irritated face who had the strange idea that she was always up to mischief—admonished her harshly. "It's time to get back to class. Let's go."

The moment he moved her forwards, she stumbled on her bad leg and bit her lip to keep from crying out as a sharp throb pulsed through it. In her haste to do this, she hadn't realized the kunai holsters managed to slip out of her pocket and topple to the ground.

Yuuichi took a moment to stare at the pilfered weapons before casting the blonde child an exasperated frown.

Namie chose to remain silent as she favored her injury and looked the other way, feigning interest in a passing butterfly.

The lanky man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't even want to know. Let's go get you fixed up, and…then I'm telling Taji-san." He bent to retrieve the kunai before reaching out to help the girl limp her way along.

* * *

Taji remained silent while examining the small girl's swollen knee. Yuuichi had wrapped it for her as temporary means since there were no medical nin near the school, but instead of leaving Namie to struggle all the way home she decided to deal with it immediately and heal what she could. "It's sprained." She determined, then set to work on regenerating the torn ligaments with her chakra to give the healing process a kickstart.

Namie pursed her lips. '_I thought as much.'_ She glanced towards her teacher, who'd remained after putting a compress around her knee, anticipating that he would explain the situation and rat her out. He caught her eye briefly before turning towards the brunette woman.

"I'm not surprised. She was training without supervision during lunchtime."

"Namie?" Taji's eyes widened.

Yuuichi nodded. "She managed to swipe some kunai from the storage room somehow and I found her leaving the practice area."

"I—I don't know what to say. She doesn't usually…" The medic trailed off as she checked the status of her charge's injury and pressed her lips together unsurely. She knew Namie was having difficulties focusing and even performing during exams lately, and her attitude had been less than cheerful. All of this since—

Since the kidnapping incident and its aftermath.

"I know she isn't a…bad kid. Just a little unruly." The chuunin shrugged a little helplessly. "I want what's best for her, though, so I'll have to punish her to make her reflect on her actions." He fixed the blonde with a calculating stare before sighing. "Namie, take the next few days to think about what you did. I want you to write up a formal apology while you're gone, too. Tsubame-sensei works hard to keep inventory straight so there are enough weapons for everyone, you know."

"Yes, sensei." Namie muttered, nodding. Maybe he _did_ care—either that or he was just soft on injured kids. She expected him to gripe at her and expel her or something.

"Thank you, Yuuichi-sensei." Taji finished tending to the girl's knee and replaced the compress, then turned her back and knelt down slightly. The girl obediently climbed onto her guardian's back and wrapped her arms loosely around her neck.

The trip home was silent.

Taji briefly registered that this was the first time she'd ever carried the child on her back—and the first time in a very long while that she'd even held her at _all._

A certain distance was present between them. The older woman wasn't sure if it was because of the way she began to perceive the child when it became clear that she was not as immature or reliant upon her elders as most children her age were, or because she feared, deep down, that she could never measure up to the girl's real mother.

She was a guardian, yes, but not quite a parent.

It was different with Minato. The bond between them would never be familial, because both of them could remember Harumi and Sei. When they'd both passed away, he wasn't in need of a replacement and was more than capable of taking care of himself for the most part. They were comfortable and satisfied as caretaker and dependent.

But with Namie…

She was there from the moment of her birth, when she was a small, pink-cheeked wriggling thing swathed in fluffy blankets, barely ever making a peep and always, always staring around with wide-eyed wonder.

She'd done her best to raise the child into what she was in the present, as if she were her own. Though, at times she regretted being unable to be more prominent in the girl's life. Being part of ANBU as well as a medic nin was quite the demanding lifestyle. Partway, she also blamed the war for taking her away from the child.

Ever since its end, Taji was able to remain within the village for much longer periods of time due to her interest in childcare studies. However, after the kidnapping incident, after the observations ordered by the Hokage… there was little she could do to protect the girl and keep her away from potential harm. Nothing she could say would change the Hokage's mind, and he wouldn't even sway when she asked to be the ANBU tasked with watching over the girl.

Namie's arms tensed minutely. For her still, rhythmic breathing and quietude, the woman believed she may have been asleep. Yet a moment after the movement, she spoke in a low tone next to her ear. "Don't tell Minato."

It was breathed so quietly that she almost doubted the girl had spoken at all.

"Hm?" Taji's pace slowed. When the girl didn't speak again, she resumed her stride and continued home.

It wasn't until Namie was set to rest on the small couch in their living room that she repeated her words. "Don't tell Minato." She didn't bother keeping her voice quiet, as the boy in question wasn't home. He'd been working closely with Jiraiya for the past few weeks.

Taji considered the girl's words briefly, puzzled over why she would want to keep such a small injury obscured, until the true meaning behind the girl's words struck her.

Because her visits to the hospital were frequent, and the observations were deemed confidential, it became necessary to create a plausible excuse for the appointments. The current cover was digestive issues and stomach problems—which already considerably worried the girl's brother, though after a few weeks he'd gotten used to her constant checkups.

Namie was never the type to like drawing attention to herself or causing worry, but more than that, she hated being a source of worry for her older sibling.

Regardless, she was under orders from the Hokage. There was no way she would ever reveal the truth, and Minato had no idea. She wasn't entirely certain whether Namie was aware of this or not. After all, not even family members were privy to certain information.

"I know." Taji replied gently, smiling as she sat down beside the girl and smoothed back her hair. "I won't."

"Thank you, Taji."

Taji. _Just_ Taji. No honorific. The woman's fears that the child could possibly resent her for her failures were eased from her mind.

Perhaps the bond could be renewed after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Not my favorite chapter, but here it is! Like I mentioned in my profile, I've adjusted the ages of a few characters' age groups here for this fic because of Kishimoto's confusing tendency to draw characters in a way that doesn't always correspond to their official ages. Not only that, but seriously where's the huge canon timeline? It would help immensely if Kishimoto produced one because I can only get so far with speculation, fanmade timelines and my own interpretations. Anyways, because these are pretty much super minor characters the class assignment shift from Kakashi's and etc generation to Namie's generation isn't a big deal. Some of them are just too old (and sometimes too young, like Anko and Hayate, what are you two even doing there?) to be in that class group and it perplexes me so much. But, well, that's that.

Thanks soooo so much for the faves/follows/reads! And also to you amazing reviewers: **try10, KisaragiMarru, Sethera, Vaughn Tyler, coronadomontes, Kasuke. Hagase, thelonelylovechild, 10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat, BakaAndTensaiProductionz, Guest (ch 2), MythologyGirl, Uncertain Shifter, Sin of the Fallen, TheRavenSlayer13 **and **Flor.** It's nice to see I've gotten a usual crowd as well as some new faces popping in! General review replies are in the usual place on my dreamwidth journal (kettobase).

**Guest (ch 2):** Oho! I'm curious, which websites did_ you _use to find out the meaning of Namie's name?

**Uncertain Shifter: **Thank you for your tactful honesty, I completely agree with you! After all, even Itachi enrolled in ANBU at only ten years old and while I don't think it would be _impossible_ to have very skilled children enroll at a younger age under certain circumstances, even just for beginner training and acclimation, it would realistically be a _very _rare—and possibly very controversial—thing. But for Namie? She's not _that_ special of an exception even with recent discoveries and she is still just six. If anything, Danzo might choose to keep an eye on her and scoop her up for Root if he deemed her a worthy investment.

Anyways, keep in mind what the Hokage actually sanctioned from the previous chapter. Inori just says what he wants to get under people's skin and see their reactions when he has the opportunity—he's going to be that type of obnoxious character. Giving her the two options (which was really only ever one) pushed her voluntarily in the direction he wanted because he recognized her as the type to shy away from inconveniences and choose the less demanding prospect. She didn't even notice the manipulation tactic.

I hope that all made sense. If anyone else has any concerns or curiosities about things like this, _please_ don't hesitate to comment as I'm more than happy to provide answers or feedback given that you phrase them in a civil manner (as in as long as you don't rudely flame it which actually hasn't happened for this story yet, surprisingly).

See you next time.


	13. Eleven: Adapting, Moving Forward

"_Kushina,_ did ya hear a word I said?"

The redheaded kunoichi glanced up sharply when her mentor rapped loudly on the chalkboard and she met the older woman's pouty green glare with a slightly annoyed frown. "Of course, Koemi-sensei. I was totally paying attention. You said the technique takes a lot of concentration 'cause it can drain chakra quickly."

The woman brushed a suntanned hand through her short, wavy hair and set her other hand on her hip. "I can tell just by that that somethin's distractin' ya. I mean I know ya prefer practical lessons 'n' all, but information's important, too." She huffed out an annoyed breath. "If yer wantin' to go to the chuunin exams anytime soon, ya gotta remember the basics."

"Basics shmasics. Is the village even gonna _let_ me try to advance rank?" Her frown deepened as she leaned her cheek moodily on her hand, idly tracing patterns against a piece of paper with her fingers. The ink had long since dried and she hadn't taken any notes for the past half-hour, stuck inside her own head instead.

Not that it even _felt_ like it was her own anymore.

Ever since the Kyuubi had been transferred from the late Mito to herself, the great, overwhelming presence of the other being's colossal chakra pressed upon her consciousness in dull, though painful, pangs almost constantly. It was contained, of course—held back by the best of fuinjutsu, yet the invasive creature was still _present._

Part of the training with Senju Koemi was to adjust to the feeling, and to harness the power, yet she'd been forbidden to use it by the high council. The Kyuubi was the strongest of all the Bijuu, after all, and she was a newly designated jinchuuriki. Certain failsafes had been set in place to prevent any unfortunate incidents and her current actions were limited.

Even her mission assignments had suffered. Her active duty had been put on hold until she received enough training to assure the Senju clan, Hokage, and Elders that she was trustworthy in her role.

It was likely she wouldn't be deemed fully capable of handling the tailed beast until she was an adult.

But the worst part of the situation was the _feeling._ The hateful whispers that brushed against her mind, intruding into her thoughts, threatening her. If she slipped, even just for a moment, she feared the Kyuubi would try to break free from its bonds and steal control.

How had Mito handled it?

Was she able to suppress the awful feeling only because of the love she'd gained?

She'd been told over and over not to hate anything, not even the Kyuubi, and to fill herself with love, but in her current situation, it was difficult to obey that advice.

Besides, who could love her now that she hosted the terrible, feared beast? It was difficult even being near her mentor at times, even though she never displayed a hostile or disgusted reaction to being close to a jinchuuriki.

"Chakra chains come in handy around Bijuu, ya know." The tanned kunoichi provided, humming offhandedly, as if she could read the redhead's current predicament.

Kushina's eyes brightened. "I was paying attention, really!" She grabbed her ink brush as she spoke and swiftly copied down the notes on the chalkboard, splattering droplets of ink across the desk in her rush.

An amused smile twisted Koemi's lips as she crossed her arms. "Yeah…ya sure were." There was a minute's pause while she waited for the young Uzumaki to catch up. "So, 'bout those chains…why don't we move on t' the practical application an' see how ya fare?"

A broad grin spread across the girl's face. "Let's do it, 'ttebane!"

* * *

Namie tangled her fingers into the chain-link fence surrounding the training grounds, leaning most of her weight against it to ease the pressure on her healing knee. Almost a week had passed since she'd been "suspended" from the Academy, and Taji had nicely healed up her leg since then—though, she insisted she keep it wrapped and refrain from standing on it for too long for another two or three days to make sure her hard work didn't go undone.

In the distance, just a few meters away, Jiraiya was instructing Minato in Senjutsu. Or at least, she supposed that's what it was supposed to be. It was some sort of meditation technique that required her brother to remain very still. Though they weren't too far away, and she was still able to make out the small details of their facial expressions, hearing their words was difficult.

She'd already seen Minato summon one of his toads—a young, somber-looking thing he introduced as Gamaken—so she knew that his was now one of the many names present on the toad summoning contract.

That fact did little to help her determine what events were still pending.

Namie hadn't been able to make progress with her plans since Kushina's kidnapping. The girl was definitely a jinchuuriki now, so the next major event in the timeline she anticipated was the start of the third war. Though, the exact date of said event was unknown.

Her position in the _canon timeline_ was still unknown.

While pondering this, her eyes drifted towards her brother's goofy teacher. She couldn't recall any information of him regarding the third war, nor could she recall Tsunade's or the other Sannin's name ever cropping up during that particular time period. Probably, Tsunade and Shizune left Konoha before the war's start. It was the only reason she could think of for such an esteemed medic to be absent during such a gruesome war. As for Jiraiya…perhaps he was occupied with undercover missions. Either that, or he played the role of a traveling hermit writing his novels. And Orochimaru?

'_When did he defect from Konoha? Or rather, when _does_ he?_'

The gaping holes in her knowledge bothered her. She quickly released her hold on the fence when she noticed her knuckles were white and felt the thin metal bite into her skin with deep indents. Her brow furrowed as she rubbed the feeling back into her fingers.

"Now that's a really uncute look you got there."

Namie's eyes darted up to see the white-haired Sannin standing on the other side of the fence before her. One quick glance revealed that Minato was still sitting in the distance meditating. She narrowed one eye suspiciously as she returned her attention to Jiraiya.

This was the first time they'd spoken since the kidnapping incident. It was a mystery just how much he knew about her involvement and her subsequent reveal as a person of interest within the village.

The sage held his hands up in mock-surrender with an eyeroll at the girl's reaction. She was all business, this one. Even gruffer than Tsunade, at such a young age already.

"Can I help you, Jiraiya-san?" She asked in a tone that belied her round, childish face.

And here he thought _Minato_ was mature for his age. Speaking with this child was the equivalent of trying to make small talk with the uppity desk clerk at the library.

She was a strange kid—though, he'd known that for a while now.

"Well, I thought maybe you'd have more fun over there with your brother. We're not doing anything dangerous today, so it's fine if you're close by." He grinned.

Namie averted her gaze and chewed on her lip. She hadn't meant to be so abrupt with him. The thought that he was privy to whatever confidential information that concerned her—and the fear that perhaps he would let something slip to Minato—brought about a stifling uneasiness. She wanted nothing more than to avoid the sage. Her eyes traveled once more towards her sibling. "Strange, you'd think it would be better to leave him alone while he's meditating."

Jiraiya's face fell. "I—come on, I'm just trying to be nice here."

"Sorry."

"Guess you're the kind of kid who can't hold her tongue, huh?" The Sannin set his hands on his hips as he surveyed the small girl. She certainly didn't bother with trying to sound sincere. "In any case, it's good to see you're well."

Namie pointed out her wrapped knee with slight irritation. "As well as I can be." Her eyes traveled up to study the sage's young face. "Something tells me you didn't come here just to check up on me." They held an even stare. "How much do you know?"

He shrugged his shoulders languidly as he lowered his voice. "Enough." He broke away from their staring contest and cast his eyes towards the treetops behind them. There was a hidden ANBU agent present, though the young girl displayed no signs of recognition. Probably, she had no idea she was being followed.

"Just what exactly is the definition of confidentiality?" The blonde grumbled, drawing his attention back to her.

He met the question with a small chuckle; she would be surprised how much the people in the village liked to gossip. However, certain secrets remained protected. Among them were the very child herself and the current jinchuuriki for the Kyuubi. Sooner or later, though, those secrets would become common knowledge as well.

"Relax. It's not like it's a hot topic. No one but the big wigs and a select few high-ranking individuals knows a thing about it."

"That's comforting." This time, her words were honest. Her tense shoulders relaxed and she returned her hands to the fence, fingers tapping against the thin metal as she watched Minato. "I'm not trying to be rude, but can you get to the point, Jiraiya-san?"

The man sighed, shaking his head at her attitude. He hoped she would drop this behavior as she grew older because it would serve to make her pretty damn unapproachable. "How do I put it…Minato's been distracted lately. That is, there's something on his mind and I'm not sure if it's because of you or something else altogether."

"Like Uzumaki Kushina?" Namie suggested. "I can't imagine why it would be me."

"Because you tend to get yourself into troublesome situations, maybe?" The Sannin replied with a grin. "But it could be as you said, too. If that happens to be the case, do me a favor and help move things along for them, would ya?"

Namie's cool expression dropped into surprise as she turned her full attention to the man. "_Huh?_ Why can't you do it yourself, Mister Matchmaker?"

"I have an important mission starting tomorrow." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm a busy guy! Plus, you know them both so you'll be able to do a lot more than I could. Consider it an unofficial mission from yours truly."

"That's so _weird._" She scoffed meanly, squinting at the man. '_Trust this guy to get involved in his student's _love life._ Should I really be surprised?' _

Jiraiya shrugged. "You should be jumping at the opportunity to play ninja…"

"I didn't say I _wouldn't_. I just said it was really weird." She sighed. "I'll do what I can."

A grin spread across his face. "Great! Y'know, you're pretty agreeable when it counts, kid."

"I'm—" She started to speak, but her reply trailed off as the Sannin waved flippantly at her and hurried back towards his student. '_At least our interests are aligned.'_

After that strange conversation, the training sessions stretched on for about an hour, well into the late afternoon. Jiraiya said his farewells to the siblings and drifted away from them when they reached the main street of the village, mumbling something about the hot springs.

Once the sage was out of sight, Minato turned a concerned glance to his sister. "Should you be walking so much, Namie? I can carry you."

Said girl shook her head. "I'm fine, Brother. It's mostly healed up by now, Taji said this is just for precautions. Besides, I'm way too old for that."

"Right, right," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. Seven wasn't exactly _way too old_ to be carried, but she was adamant in her refusal. "How did it happen, anyways?"

She noted the prying tone in his question and aimed to deflect it. "Oh, I fell at school. Nothing serious. Anyways, I can't believe you can summon toads, Brother! You're so cool, I'm jealous!" A bright grin stretched across her face as she walked ahead of him and spun around as if to show that her knee was perfectly fine.

"You think so?" His lips rose into a small grin. He kept his eyes trained on his sibling as she turned back around and continued on, commenting about his new skill.

The fact that she was forcing a subject change meant she was hiding something. He'd noticed it for the past few weeks. Her behavior was a bit shiftier than usual and anytime he asked about it she did her best to throw him off track with excessive, charming smiles and praise. Such a tactic may have worked for her in the past, but it wasn't something that could slip past a trained chuunin unnoticed.

This shift could be sourced to when her periodic visits to the hospital began, but neither Taji nor Namie spoke much about these appointments. The most he'd been given was that it had to do with her digestive system and overall health. Medicine was far from his area of expertise or interest, so there wasn't much he could discern from that alone. He could only hope that the cause of her check-ups and the knee injury she received at the Academy were unrelated.

It hadn't been an issue when she concealed her friendship with Kushina. But when her health was involved, it became a different matter.

He took a breath, composed himself, and prepared to share his feelings on the matter. "You know, Namie—"

"Kushina-nee-chan?" His sister's curious voice eclipsed his own.

Minato's gaze snapped up to see a familiar red-haired girl standing in their pathway. Just as Namie said, it was none other than Uzumaki Kushina.

The redhead let her stare wander between the two blond siblings, brow creased uncertainly as a shaky grin spread across her face. "H-hey! Long time no see! Namie-chan, Minato."

"Kushina," The elder blond acknowledged quietly. "It's been a while."

Namie glanced between the two attentively, noting the absence of honorifics and wondering how long it had been that way between them. She'd never personally witnessed them interacting before.

The two shinobi held each other's gazes, with Minato smiling slightly and Kushina maintaining that strangely troubled expression until she looked away with pink cheeks and a frown.

"Y-yeah, it has, 'ttebane! Uh, what brings you here?" She stumbled over her words uncharacteristically.

A smug smirk rose to the younger girl's face as Jiraiya's words rang in her mind. Between the two at that moment, she may as well have been invisible. '_Ah, it's young love.'_ She could practically feel the floaty, sparkly atmosphere around them.

"I just finished training with Jiraiya-sensei. What about you?"

"Just—just taking a break from training to pick up some dinner, you know?" The redhead replied shakily, twisting her fingers together.

Namie raised an eyebrow, wondering if she'd always been so jittery. As far as she'd known, the redhead had nerves of steel. '_It's unexpectedly cute, though. She's nervous around him!'_ Minato, on the other hand, upheld a calm façade. The girl's smirk persisted as she fished around in her pocket for a crumpled piece of paper Taji had given her earlier that day. Once it was in her grip, she held it up and waved it before her sibling. "Hey, hey, Brother, why don't we invite Kushina-nee-chan over for dinner tonight? You two can go grocery shopping and I'll go tell Taji we're having a guest!"

"Ah, no, wait, that's—" Kushina made to protest, but her voice was intersected by Minato's.

"But Namie—"

Said blonde pressed the shopping list into her sibling's hand and smiled broadly. "There's no problem with it, right?" When her brother muttered something along the lines of agreement, her gaze drifted towards a startled Kushina. "Right?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then, I'll see you two later!" She waved at them mischievously as she hurried away before they could flounder out an excuse of refusal.

Her cheerful expression dissolved once she rounded a corner and she slowed her steps to a slow plod with a slight limp. _'Even without my intervention, they'd become closer.'_ She mused, recalling the way they'd looked at each other. It didn't take a genius to recognize the tender feelings of young love.

She heaved out a sigh as she stretched her arms up behind her head and leisurely traced a path home.

'_Love, huh…?'_

It wasn't a foreign concept to her, no. Though the memories were blurred and faces were hazy, the feeling remained. Probably, her first love had been around the same age she was in the present, no matter how idealistic and childish it had been. Simply kindergarten curiosity that involved exchanges of flowers picked from grandmothers' gardens and badly written love letters in blocky, childish scrawl. Her last love had been unrequited and would forever remain so. Funny, she couldn't even recall his name anymore, though he'd been beautiful and intelligent, extremely polite and funny, interested in quite a few of her own hobbies and always helpful… But there was no use dwelling on what she could never again encounter.

She considered her failing memory a gift rather than a curse. She didn't need anything-not a single _thing_-from her past life save for the knowledge of the current world she was in. If there had been a convenient button to drain all of those unnecessary moments and all the feelings involved, she wouldn't hesitate to press it.

There was no looking back, not anymore. Only moving forward.

Carving her own way into this world and supporting, protecting the ones that gained a place in her heart took priority.

There came a sudden commotion behind the girl, jarring her from her thoughts. A raucous group of civilian children rushed past, brandishing toy weapons and shouting about becoming famous ninja warriors. She didn't mind the noisy display, and might have smiled if not for the fact that they'd rudely knocked into her on their way by without apology.

Her recovering knee gave out on her as she stumbled to uphold her balance. She threw a half-strangled yell of an insult towards the kids as she prepared to meet the ground, though her fall was halted by a large, warm hand on her arm. Effortlessly, she was pulled up and set back on her feet.

"Alright, there?"

Namie's head snapped around as she prepared to chew out whoever helped her (she could have handled it herself just fine) and scrunched her eyebrows together when her eyes met with the cool grey flak-jacket of an obvious ANBU shinobi. She glanced up with a sharp glare, meeting the long-lashed, murky brown eyes of an unfamiliar man who was no older than her guardian.

There was a brief pause in which her eyes scanned the length of his face; slightly sunburnt skin, a long, semi-straight nose that had seen its share of fights, a ruggedly square jawline, a defined brow, and above all that, dark, short windswept hair that was constantly combed back by fingers and not quite successfully obeying. Her eyes snapped back towards his after the cursory glance, though this contact didn't last any longer.

"I—I'm fine!" Namie ground out, frowning, finding it odd that she was unable to hold the concerned stare. A strange warmth flooded her cheeks. It burned up to the edges of her ears and she dearly hoped her complexion wasn't the type to color, as pale as it was. "No one _asked _you to do that." Her attention drifted to the tanned hand that was still set upon her arm, and she quickly shook it off. Her heartbeat increased.

"I could have just watched you drop to the dirt." The ANBU spoke in a flat, deadpan tone, glancing almost morosely at the hand that was tossed away before crossing his arms and observing the flustered child. She'd turned an angry red, as bright as a tomato, though he wasn't certain if it was from embarrassment or irritation or perhaps both. "Would you have preferred that?"

"I'm not going to thank you." The blonde rubbed at one of her ears idly, with stiff, clumsy fingers, still avoiding his scrutinizing stare. "And, uh, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." She claimed petulantly. It was more of an excuse than anything. She became incredibly self-conscious of her outward age and something strange stirred in her chest. She wanted to run away.

A wry smile twisted the man's face as he shrugged his shoulders. "Fair enough. And thanks are unnecessary. I only helped because you're injured."

Namie glanced down to her wrapped knee. "I'm fine. I—I have to get home now." She turned and ambled a few steps forwards before muttering a quick "thank you" under her breath, just barely loud enough for even her ears to catch.

Her words were met with a quiet laugh and a smooth follow-up. "Be careful."

Damaged knee be damned, she aimed to put as much distance between them as humanly possible and hurried home at a near all-out sprint, only stopping when she reached the apartment complex.

She pressed a hand to her wildly beating heart as she braced herself against the stairway and struggled to catch her breath, wide-eyed and horrified.

'_What the hell was that? …I hope I _never_ run into him again.'_

It didn't take a genius to recognize puppy love—and love at first sight, after all.

'_Wait, _love?' She stopped short, staring out across the street with a strange, strangled expression.

'_No way. That ANBU guy was cute, sure, but…'_ Her breath hitched as a sudden realization struck her. He was _ANBU._ What were the chances of running into some random ANBU on her way through the village? Not only that, but he'd been the one to make himself known.

That was what unsettled her. _That_ was what had her out of sorts. Her heart wasn't aflutter from attraction—her mind may have been susceptible, but her young body was not yet capable of hormonal feats like that. It was a misplaced feeling of uneasiness and dread (_not_ stomach butterflies); that fight-or-flight instinct that raised her hackles and made her hyperaware of what she deemed a threat.

'_Does this mean they're monitoring me?'_ A cold sweat enveloped her as paranoia set in. She'd grown accustomed to having one of those shinobi around when she had appointments with Inori, but she'd only ever encountered one once outside of those meetings, and that time had been less than comforting, since she'd been knocked out.

But, why now? It didn't make sense—it could have been a coincidence.

"Namie?"

The blonde whipped her head around to see Taji standing at the top of the stairway, glancing down at her curiously with a tilted head and concerned expression. The woman took a tentative step forward, but paused when the child began to speak.

"Taji!" Namie forced a grin—one so wide that it turned her eyes into crescents—and bounded up the stairs to meet her guardian. "Hey, Kushina-nee-chan is coming for dinner tonight! She and Minato are shopping for ingredients. They should be here soon!" Her voice held a slight, tremulous edge despite her best efforts to hide it.

Taji noticed. However, she didn't acknowledge it. She swept her gaze briefly along their surroundings, noting the absence of the ANBU presence that had become something of a staple in their daily life, then smiled and leaned down to ruffle the girl's hair fondly. "Is that so? We'd better go and get everything else ready, then."

The woman's presence alone served to calm her nerves, if only slightly. She was a welcomed distraction.

Namie nodded. Then, a mischievous smirk crossed her face. "So, are we going to make this a super embarrassing dinner for them or what?"

Taji's expression was much the same, though her cover was deceptively innocent. "I'll get the baby photos."

The two shared a conspiratory glance before hurrying towards the door.

ANBU could wait.

* * *

**A/N:** I really do enjoy writing interactions between Namie and Jiraiya—actually, just writing Jiraiya, period. This chapter was pretty fun for me, and a little silly to break away from the somber tone that's been around lately—and a couple more OCs were introduced (ANBU guy and Koemi). Does anyone even know what happened to the rest of the Senju clan? Like, why is Tsunade the only extant one ever really mentioned in the series (aside from her bro Nawaki who we_ know_ died, and how)? I mean it's not really relevant to this story but it does make me curious. Hearing about theories is interesting.

Another quick update because I have two more after this pre-written and I get a little anxious and tired of sitting on these chapters. I'll try to have those two up this week, too.

Many many thanks for the faves/follows/reads! And also to you amazing reviewers: **thelonelylovechild, Ox King,** **coronadomontes, MythologyGirl, Vaughn Tyler, Sin of the Fallen, Uncertain Shifter, 10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat, Kasuke. Hagase, KisaragiMarru,** **Flor, Anber, Ash123, **and** Sethera.**

Review replies are in the usual place on my dreamwidth journal (kettobase).

The topic of whether or not Namie will tell Minato about her situation has come up a lot before as a curious question so I figured I'd finally reply to it without being all shifty:

**Ox King:** Well, Minato doesn't have much standing at the moment since he's just a chuunin and a young teenager, so there's likely not much he could do anyways. Along with that, Namie doesn't want to worry him excessively. She's independent and wants to think she can handle this all on her own. She assumes it'll all just blow over after a while if she plays her cards right. At least, until the last moment when/if she panics, like she did during Kushina's kidnapping when she messed up and told Jiraiya and got herself into this mess.

I have a section covering this a little more in-depth in an upcoming chapter, too.


	14. Twelve: Halcyon Days, Friends

_Nonstop gnawing riotous pain._

At first it had been a faint niggling in the back of her mind, but the longer she slept, the more demanding it grew, slithering within her brain, squeezing, squeezing, squirming and clawing against her skull.

An inky black abyss of darkness accompanied this feeling. Within that void, voices whispered, brushing her senses, sometimes familiar like memories but otherwise unsettling threats, promises of future death.

False comfort. Pain and suffering.

This was the third time it had happened in the past month.

Though, unlike the preceding occurrences, this time she was presented with swirling colors and vague outlines of faces from past, present and future.

_It's your fault._ A memory.

_It's your fault._ Accusations of a boy yet to be born.

_It's your fault._ A familiar face—two familiar faces, merging together, blurring space and time, pushing through, jerking against her mind.

Then, blood. A sea of crimson, stretching to the horizon, surface as fine and still as glass.

It rippled.

Bubbles broke through the stillness, churning, boiling, frothing, as bleached, emaciated tendrils slid through the liquid and grasped the surface as if it were solid, pulling, pulling, and soon the tendrils became brittle limbs attached to grotesque bodies bearing the faces of people she once knew and once loved; people she _knew _and loved.

_Taji._

_Kushina._

_Minato._

Reaching, reaching, grabbing—clinging with hungry grips, sharpened bones gouging deep into her skin and _dragging_, pulling her under, screaming silent, sinking, sinking—

Dragged under, lungs filling with red, red, so much red—

She couldn't breathe.

_She couldn't breathe._

Namie wrenched herself violently away from the dragging pressure and was awoken by the rough impact of her back smacking into the hard ground beneath her bed.

"Namie?" An urgent call and a quiet knock. "Namie, what was that? Are you alright?"

The girl kicked away her tangled bedsheets and blankets with shaking legs, drawing them to her chest once they were free and pinning them tightly with arms as her entire being trembled. A raspy breath left her dry lips as she attempted to speak, tongue stiff and heavy, and she floundered for a worrying second before forcing her voice to break through.

"I—I'm _fine_! Just—I just fell off the bed! Don't worry, Brother." As soon as the croaking words were spoken, she pressed her forehead into her kneecaps, clammy skin sticking.

"Ouch." Then, worriedly. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Just a little winded is all." She breathed.

There was a beat of silence, stillness, and Namie squeezed her eyes shut, then immediately sought for the brightness of the morning sun seeping in through her window.

Not darkness. Never darkness.

"Try to be more careful from now on, Namie? Breakfast is ready, by the way." Uncertainty. A sigh.

Footsteps trailed away.

Namie's ears slowly adjusted to the sounds of morning pedestrian greetings in the street below, rickety shop carts wheeling along, and birds chirping.

She slowly unwound her small body until it was sprawled flat across the wooden floor, skin finally soaking in the stale heat of the muggy mid-summer weather. She draped an arm across her sweaty forehead and took in a few deep, measured breaths before lifting her torso and peering around the small, scarcely-furnished room.

Her bed looked strangely bare without its colorful coverlets. The small, single bookshelf in the bedroom was only half-filled and neglected, covered in dust that floated through the morning air. Her gaze roved slowly along with the tiny, lazily dancing specks, illuminated by the sunlight that filtered in, and she examined every corner of the small enclosure until her breathing evened out. Her eyes lingered briefly on the small trunk that contained her childhood toys and memories. It was firmly shut; abandoned, a closed chapter of her life.

It was only a nightmare.

Terrifying, disturbing, but imaginary and harmless.

"It was a nightmare…Only a nightmare." She spoke the words aloud to confirm it.

With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and piled her fallen blankets back onto the low bed before gazing out the window towards what little of Konoha she could see beyond the neighboring buildings that blocked the view.

Today, she finally returned to the Academy.

* * *

Inuzuka Toboe was not skilled in the finer points of human interaction. As a matter of fact, he wasn't skilled in expressing himself at all.

It had something to do with his unorthodox upbringing, he figured—or at least, that's what his aunt and cousins claimed. Tsume, in particular.

When he claimed that he'd been raised by dogs, it hadn't been a complete lie; his parents, when they were still alive, had been ninken breeders for the entirety of the Inuzuka clan. Large, wolfish classes for the most part—the kinds of dogs that could grow to be the size of small horses. There were smaller types, too, though those were typically messenger and scouting breeds, like Kurocha. The larger ones were specified for combat and tracking within the clan.

Or, at times, for babysitting and carting around a young child. It wasn't an uncommon sight in the Inuzuka compound, for a ninken to be keeping its master's infants company, but they were most definitely not usually the primary caretakers.

Toboe couldn't recall much of his parent's faces, much less their personalities, but he most certainly remembered the furry mugs of his surrogate canine family. His "mother" had been a strict, stalwart snow-white dame with crushing, alligator jaws and paws larger than his own skull—which he'd seen speckled with blood more often than dirt. She had a nick in her left ear, barely a stump left of the right, and her spirit was mean as spit. Her name had been Takara and she was the progenitor to several successful lines of Inuzuka ninken before her death on the battlefield during the second war.

However, when she was tasked with childcare, she was one of the tamest, gentlest creatures to walk the planet.

The russet-haired boy's birth coincided with that of Takara's final litter, and she treated him as one of her own pups when his parents entrusted him to her. So much so that he'd been thoroughly convinced his littermates had been his own siblings until he turned four.

Some ninken were gifted with the ability to develop human speech, but Takara was not one of those. Regardless, she'd taught him nearly everything he knew in the vein of standing up for himself and defending himself, tracking, and hunting.

He'd been so partial to the company of dogs that lessons given by human instructors largely flew right over his head.

Among those that he missed was most definitely how to socially interact with others. Certainly, he was part of a group at the Academy, but he wasn't technically friends with the boys. It was more of an inherent pack-mentality that drew him towards the others. The fact that they tolerated his rowdy ways and appreciated his tracking skills was completely coincidental.

However, despite his lack of connection with the boys, he needed their company. When it was discovered that Namie had been suspended for a week because she'd been left behind, caught red-handed with the kunai_ he'd_ been in charge of, and not to mention injured, the response wasn't kind.

Namie was their only link to "Habanero-sama"—whoever _that_ was—and they blamed _him_ for hurrying ahead that day without helping the girl. They'd shunned him, refused to let him take part in their usual recess activities, and he was tasked with apologizing to her and fixing the situation.

And so here he was, standing idly by the Academy as he waited for said girl while Genma and the others watched covertly from a nearby window to make sure he followed through.

It sounded simple, but the others had no idea how difficult it was for Toboe to get along with the blonde. As far as he was concerned, they should just leave her alone.

Her entire personality—it just rubbed him the wrong way. Her arrogant behavior, her cool, superior gaze, her stupid hairstyle…but most of all, the way she looked down on him more than any of the others.

He'd spent a great deal of time training since the time she slandered his taijutsu skills and mentioned how he had no idea how to improve. His skill level had definitely increased, and he'd come close to gaining another victory from her, yet she still wouldn't acknowledge it. It was a huge pain.

_She_ was a huge pain.

Why couldn't she just notice his hard work?

* * *

The first thing that greeted Namie when she entered the school grounds was the sight of a fidgety, disgruntled Inuzuka Toboe.

His hands were buried deep in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched forwards stiffly. Kurocha was nowhere in sight so Namie decided to walk around the boy and ignore him altogether because his mood appeared so sour. However, the minute she attempted to step around him, he blocked her way.

"'M supposed to apologize," the brunet grumbled, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. His eyes pointedly ignored the blonde's suspicious stare and he instead briefly glanced to her wrapped knee.

Everything about the way that sentence was muttered sounded insincere and it did nothing to impress the girl. She crossed her arms and huffed impatiently at whatever guilt trip the boy had been forced into.

He became visibly irked at the sound, though he put aside his reluctance—or just general disinterest in the situation—to glare down at the blonde, meeting her challenging gaze with his own. "I was supposed to help you bring back the kunai, so it was kind of my fault, I guess."

Namie merely blinked, unmoved.

The boy's right eye twitched. "The guys are mad at me 'cause of you, you know! They haven't let me play any games with 'em since you got suspended!" He spoke quickly, hands clenched into fists, and even leaned forwards slightly in a way that came off as vaguely threatening. Namie held her ground and awaited his words of apology. "Stupid Strawhead—what is this, the silent treatment? I'm trying to say I'm sorry here."

A sneer pulled at her lips and she finally spoke, coolly, "I don't think you call someone 'stupid' and blame them for things when you're trying to apologize, dog breath." Well, that was probably the most he was capable of. Even when they'd first met, his apology had been severely lacking.

The Inuzuka finally seemed to snap, and he threw his hands up in annoyance. "_Jeez_, Strawhead, you have a real problem! You're such a bit—"

"Mooorning," a lethargic voice called mid-yawn and soon Shiranui Genma stood at their side. "You two sure look like you're getting along well. I mean, it's dumb to fight so early in the day, right?" One of his arms went to lean heavily on the other boy's shoulder.

Toboe held his tongue on his previous comment and stuffed his hands back into his pockets angrily.

"Good to see you back." Genma commented, smiling languidly around the ever-present dango skewer, as his gaze wandered towards the blonde. "Y'know, Toboe here's real sorry about what happened, but his vocabulary's a bit too limited to express it properly. In fact, we're all sorry."

Namie stared. '_What's with these kids?'_

Genma was unaffected by her silence. "So, what do you say? Friends?" He stretched out a hand in truce. Toboe uttered a discontent grunt at the gesture but remained silent.

"Friends?" She repeated, making no move to accept. "I don't know. Maybe if you stop making stupid bets at my expense?"

The boy shrugged. "Done."

Namie surveyed the two brunets critically, searching for an ulterior motive. It only took her a moment to remember she was only dealing with children and sandbox disagreements—not a political agenda. With a sigh, she slowly extended her hand and grasped the one held towards her. "Fine. Friends."

The girl's week-long absence had caused quite a stir in the usual classroom rumors. Her return and seemingly injured state only served to fuel them. Apparently, one of the more popular stories was that she received the injury while fighting with Yuuichi-sensei and her actions resulted in indefinite suspension. Some versions claimed that it was because _she'd_ won and injured the older man's pride, and some claimed it was because she suffered defeat and it was her punishment.

Another rumor was that she'd been expelled for the thuggish behavior—some of her classmates did look rather surprised to see her at all.

Whatever they believed, there was a definite shift in how her peers now perceived her. It did no help that she was already considered a rough-and-tumble type with her taijutsu reputation.

Most of her unacquainted peers did their best to avoid her.

"What's the story, Strawhead?"

Namie looked up from the manual she was studying when Suzume settled down on the grass beside her, expression skeptical. The blonde only raised a brow and shrugged, not quite understanding the question.

"The story behind your sudden spike in popularity. Have you _heard_ what everyone is saying? They're terrified of you. And—I'm being blunt, here—there's not much to be afraid of."

Today, the dark-haired girl's frizzy mane was tamed and pulled into a tight, elegant bun reminiscent of her mother's—this week's special kunoichi lesson was in learning how to tastefully groom their outer appearance. Namie wondered if her good hair day had a direct relationship with her confidence and ability to approach her without becoming irritated. Not only that, but she noticed earlier that day that Suzume had grown a few centimeters and now held a good bit of height over the blonde, officially making her the shortest in her year. That leverage may have had something to do with it, too.

Ever since the other girl had been helping out with her remedial kunoichi lessons, their relationship became even more hot and cold. Not quite friends, not quite enemies, but somewhere in between. However, the blonde had no trouble acknowledging the girl as more of a "friend" if only for the fact that she made a lousy rival.

Namie idly pulled at her bangs—having long since grown out from their butchered state and now hanging loosely at either side of her face—and then let her fingers drift to the thin pink ribbon at the end of one of her braids. Her hairstyle was plain and childish. The hair care manual for kunoichi provided several alternate, intricate styles that were more suited to the profession, such as Suzume's attractive updo. She briefly considered trying such a hairstyle before said girl's face interrupted her line of vision and demanded her attention.

"Well?"

The blonde scoffed as she untied the ribbons and began to unravel her plaited hair. "There's nothing to say. It's all rumor."

Suzume kept her silence and sat up just a bit straighter when her mother—Tsubame-sensei, Namie learned, as she'd had to give her apology letter directly to the woman earlier that day—passed by to give Namie a hair brush and mirror, as well as a small selection of elaborate hair pins (the twin of one already set snugly in Suzume's bun). "Remember, neat, orderly, and practical." She reminded the girl before returning to the bench she'd taken up residence on while grading their writing exercises.

"I wonder if I should just cut it," the girl murmured to herself as she combed her fingers through her wave-poofed hair, feeling knots and kinks forming already, and reached for the brush.

"Your face is too round for short hair." Suzume commented matter-of-factly, studying the strangely tangled mess that was _not_ unlike to her own in its usual state. She raised a curious brow. "And I'm no simpleton. I just want the truth from the source. Boys are stupid and over exaggerate things."

Namie wanted to point out that there was no way to "over" exaggerate, but thought against it and struggled with styling her hair into a chignon with braided segments on either side of her head instead. Hair care had never been her forte. Most of the times she'd attempted to use a curling iron in the past, her skin had ended up burnt more often than her hair curled. Braids, though; braids were easy. Braids and messy ponytails. "Ultra Perm, I'm hurt," she responded, tucking a bobby pin against a flyaway strand, a little dismayed that her attempt was not looking as perfect as the picture presented in the manual. "It wasn't anything to get excited about. I got in trouble for practicing when I wasn't supposed to and I tripped and hurt my knee. Yuuichi-sensei caught me."

"I _knew_ it wasn't anything crazy." Suzume snorted, turning up her nose and smirking in victory. "You follow the rules most of the time—when you're not being rebellious, that is." There was a pause in which the brunette leaned over to rescue Namie's butchered attempt at hair styling, smacking her fingers away from her poor hair and yanking the brush from her other hand. She jerked the comb through the strands with a rough, practiced precision that made the girl wince. "Don't think I'm stupid, Strawhead. I noticed you let your grades drop." The girl grumbled something about her hair being just as difficult as her personality—Namie couldn't catch every word, but the feelings behind the sentence were clear.

She quickly opened her mouth to retaliate. "Ultra Perm—" There came a sudden pain, and Namie barely concealed an anguished hiss as Suzume jerked at a segment of her hair, braiding it tightly. She disposed her verbal retaliation and instead returned to the subject at hand. "I never said you were stupid, but that's not your business."

The other girl kept silent for a moment, weaving the blonde into fine plaits before moving on to wind them into a ball at the back of her head. "And is it true you're a student of the Red-Hot Habanero?" Her tone was nonchalant, but the underlying curiosity was clear as day.

"Oh, no, don't tell me they blabbed about that too—_aaaagh, ow!_" This time, the pain was too strong to ignore. "Y-yeah! It's true! Jeez, you would do well in the Torture and Interrogation department, you know?!"

"Do you," Suzume paused, tucking in the end strands of the girl's hair before reaching for an intricate pin. "Do you want…Would you still be willing to help me with taijutsu, Namie-san?" The ornament slid effortlessly into place.

The blonde picked up the hand mirror and observed her new hairstyle appraisingly before smiling in approval. "Ah, not bad." Her eyes traveled to the brunette's, and she considered her request a moment before grinning. "Sure, sure. You've helped me out a lot so I'll return the favor."

The two girls met up just outside the school building once classes were let out for the day. As usual, Suzume was uptight for some reason or the other, standing tall in her casual kimono and acting like she'd rather be anywhere else than with a certain blonde.

Namie snorted to herself as she observed the scene. She didn't _hate_ the girl, but it seemed she had some sort of grudge against her for whatever reason. The fact that she'd had to make a second request for taijutsu class tutoring injured her pride somehow.

"Namie-san." The girl greeted, barely flicking her eyes in her direction as she nodded.

"Just 'Namie' is fine, you know. Don't need to be so formal, Ultra Perm." A vein ticked near the brunette's mouth. The blonde smirked.

"Na—_Namie_." Suzume repeated, stressing each syllable in a threatening tone.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it, _Suzume?_" Like the other girl, she stressed each character.

The reaction was unexpected. The other girl's eyes widened uncharacteristically and she quickly turned away, cleared her throat and quickly added, to cover for her behavior, "Please don't drop the honorifics!"

"Huh? Really?" Namie pursed her lips and hummed, eyeing the girl thoughtfully. How strange, for her to get so flustered over a name. She supposed it was due to her traditional upbringing. She even addressed her own _mother_ as 'sensei' while at school. As for her other classmates, Namie recalled that they were spoken to in a similar matter. Girl really needed to lighten up.

She briefly contemplated the words Inori once told her. Did cutesy names and honorifics really offset coarse personalities? Well, she would just have to see for herself. "Suzu-chan, then." She declared, nodding in approval.

"_Suzu?!_" Suzume squawked, fixing the blonde with a scowl.

"Suzu-_chan!_" Namie corrected, grinning smugly.

It was true. She was already starting to seem more like a prickly kitten instead of a sharp-beaked bird.

Namie looked over the other girl for a moment, ignoring her fuming, and let her grinning lips settle into an even line. "Before we start the basics, there's something you should know."

"Huh? Like what?"

"I'm surprised the teachers never mentioned it, but—your outfit's not really suited for taijutsu. You should wear a shorter kimono and shorts or something that won't hinder your movements so much." She explained, setting a hand on her hip and waving the other whimsically in the air. "But that's the least of your problems."

Suzume had gone quiet when the other girl jumped back on topic, and her brows furrowed when she processed the end statement.

Namie continued when the dark-haired girl provided her full attention. "From what I've seen, you're a little too timid when it comes to facing an opponent. Your moves get all unsure and halfhearted. That, and your stance…" She began to tick off problem areas on her fingers, and her classmate nodded as she took note of each point. Once she finished her overview, the blonde stretched her back and turned to walk away. "I'll show you. We can train for a little while at a nearby park. It's one where I used to meet up with," her lips trembled slightly with the effort it took to keep from laughing at the name, "_Habanero-sama._"

She wondered how Kushina would react if she called her that to her face.

Once the two girls left the school grounds, a group of classmates hailed them down.

Namie blinked suspiciously down at the single coupon being shaken at her nose before eyeing the group of boys. All six were present, though the one holding said voucher was Genma. "What's this?"

The brunet scratched at his bandana-covered head as he spoke around the ever-present dango stick. "We decided to split the betting pool since the game got messed up anyways." He glanced at the coupon in his hand. "This one's yours. For all the trouble."

"Ah. Thanks," she responded in monotone, taking the small ticket and pursing her lips. It was a small apology for a suspension sentence, a knee wound and an unwanted reputation.

"We're all gonna go get dango now. You should come with us and tell—" they gray-haired boy (she'd forgotten his name) began to say, but was cut off when Ebisu shoved past him.

"—You should come with us!" The bespectacled boy exclaimed, soon gaining agreement from the majority of the group. Save for Toboe, who looked as disgruntled as ever by her mere presence.

Namie glanced between them all, no trace of amusement in sight. _'This is definitely about Kushina. What, are these kids all the Habanero fanclub?'_ She observed their bright, eager expressions and sighed. '_Actually, that may not be far off the mark.'_ She turned her gaze to Suzume, who looked completely unperturbed by the entire ordeal. "I'm a little busy. I'm hanging out with Suzu-chan here." As expected, the brunette's eyes nearly bugged out when her newly christened nickname was spoken so casually.

"Both you and Suzume-chan are welcome to come, Namie-chan." Genma offered.

"Just Namie," the blonde spoke automatically, too conditioned from correcting the Yamanaka doctor's usage of _that_ honorific to really notice. The only one who could ever get away with it was Kushina. "Well, Suzu-chan, what do you say?"

Said girl fidgeted slightly, toying with the edges of her sleeves. "I'm a little hungry, to be perfectly honest."

Namie nodded. "Alright. We'll go."

The dango shop wasn't far away, but during the walk there, Namie discovered a number of interesting facts about her classmates.

Overall, their interest in her was based in her acquaintanceship with Kushina. The only ones who didn't seem to mind her presence as an independent existence were her deskmate and the boy with the red band across his face. She still wasn't quite sure where she stood with Suzume and Toboe, though they both seemed to know each other since they were walking together, only occasionally conversing.

She observed the minute change in the girl's body language, noting the way she seemed to become a bit more girly. Her expression wasn't so displeased or pinched, she _actually_ smiled, and—_was she twirling her hair? _Well, maybe it was more subtle than that, given that it was _Suzume_, but the action was obvious.

It was clear as day what was going on there—though, maybe she was just extra-perceptive towards the topic because of recent developments including that weird run-in with the ANBU shinobi and Minato and Kushina's developing relationship.

Toboe, on the other hand, was largely oblivious. He simply slumped along with his hands in his pockets, perpetually scowling, and replying to the girl's questions with terse comments of his own.

'_What an idiot.'_

"They're pretty close. It's been that way for a while." Genma commented as his eyes followed Namie's line of sight.

"Yeah…looks _close._" She shrugged.

"It's been that way since preschool." Raidou added from Namie's other side.

"Preschool? How long have you all known each other?"

Raidou shrugged. "Since daycare days. Most of our parents worked together. Except for Ebisu. He's an orphan. And Aoba's parents are civilians."

"You all go way back, then," Namie mumbled as a slight twinge, a yearning for times of the past, pulled at her heart.

She hadn't thought about her old friends in quite a while. Thinking on it was moot, but she couldn't exactly stop the stray thoughts that cropped up.

Here, it was different. Friends were unnecessary. The interactions were amusing, certainly, though only a means of staving off boredom and blending into Konoha's population.

It was true, after all, that two of these classmates would indubitably become her genin teammates. They were only stepping stones; a means to an end; tools to help her grow stronger as a shinobi. Ultimately, it didn't matter who the two were.

The only ones who mattered were Minato and Kushina. Her small world revolved around them and their well-being—protecting them from their predetermined fates.

That was the purpose she'd given herself in this world. There was no room for anyone else.

A hand patting her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts.

"You're our friend now, too, Namie. No need to look so down." Genma spoke calmly.

Namie's eyes widened slightly. He'd misinterpreted the sudden silence as her feeling left out of the loop when in all actuality it was the exact opposite. How naïve.

"Right. We're friends." She agreed, pulling up a bright smile.

The visit to the dango shop was rambunctious and crowded, since there were several of them and only few serving tables. Namie ended up sitting squished between Suzume and Aoba, Toboe had spilled his green tea across their tabletop and consequently soaked all of their clothes, and there had been too much dango going around. The boys decided to participate in an eating contest with the remaining snacks, which resulted in Toriichi throwing up most of what he consumed and getting them all kicked out of the shop for bothering the other customers.

Ebisu had pilfered the wooden skewers from the dango and he and Aoba engaged in a dango-stick-senbon battle while out on the streets, which attracted the attention of one of the Uchiha patrolmen (not Fugaku this time, Namie thanked her lucky stars). He'd sent them all running with threats of telling their parents, and by the time everyone calmed down it was well into the evening.

At the crossroads, before everyone parted ways, Namie had somehow been swindled into agreeing to let the group meet Kushina someday. She still wasn't sure how it had happened aside from being caught up in the rowdy childhood momentum, but there was no way they would let her forget it since they had her cooperation.

The entire event was exhausting and a little irritating, but it had also brightened her outlook, if only a little. Those children were all fiercely determined and living their young lives to the fullest.

She had a feeling that, if she remained in their presence long enough, that unyielding confidence might just spread to her.

Maybe she didn't have to feel so alone after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for all reads/faves/follows! I'm so grateful to you all. And thanks to you wonderful reviewers especially: **thelonelylovechild, Pulchra Stellam, Littlebirdd, Vaughn Tyler, Bananarock509, milpld, Fk306, Flor, 10th Squad 3rd Seat, Dyalos, Lady Syndra, coronadomontes, MythologyGirl, Sethera, EVA-Saiyajin, TheQueen'sknight, AoMythology **and **KisaragiMarru.**

Review replies are in the usual place at my dreamwidth journal (kettobase).

Next chapter should be up around the weekend.


	15. Thirteen: Side Effects, Habanero-sama

The next session with Inori followed the same routine as always: a few mundane standard practice questions concerning her state of health, whether or not she felt any drastic shifts in mood or behavior, et cetera… Tedious things.

Naturally, she kept her vivid nightmares to herself and simply, curtly, provided answers to the queries as she sat on a small stool within that cramped, sterile-scented room with only the company of the blond doctor and ANBU Monkey.

Then came the half-hour to hour-long process of the Yamanaka invoking his mind probing jutsu, attempting different manners of disengaging or circumventing whatever technique Namie set in place to divert his search.

He researched and theorized several possibilities, he'd commented vaguely a few times before. Though it was clear that none of those had proved fruitful.

Namie had a hunch that it had something to do with her reincarnation. Both her unnatural amount of spiritual energy and the unexplained phenomena that allowed her to bounce Inori's mind technique.

Probably, she mused, whatever the "blockage" was, it was designated to protect her memories from outside interference. Much of what she retained directly contradicted this world, so by some strategic interloping from the Powers That Be or whatever led to her rebirth, this information was made only accessible to herself. Like a password-protected file only the creator could view.

It almost made her laugh. That was all _hogwash_; useless speculation—idle thoughts she'd been working through since the observations began—as there was no way to confirm or deny the "ability." The human mind was tricky. For all she knew, it may very well have been caused by a jutsu.

As for her chakra storage, that alone could be explained by her retention of memories and experiences, she figured. She'd never acknowledged her own mind as particularly resilient in her previous life, but compared to her status as a child—compared to a _child's_ brain—it was definitely stronger. Years ahead in development. Her thought processes worked far differently than a child's and it was no wonder they'd caught on to it. It was one thing having once been a child, and entirely another masquerading as what she only had vague memories of.

Shinobi were trained to be perceptive.

"_Ugh_," Namie awoke from the imposed haze of unconsciousness to the sound of Inori's pained grunt. When she regained some sense of lucidity and her vision began to clear, her gaze zeroed in on the doctor sitting across from her.

His own seat had scraped backwards a few noticeable centimeters, and the man himself was doubled over, one hand gripping the armrest of his chair and the other grasping his head tightly. His shoulders were squared and, though his expression was hidden, it was clear he'd experienced some type of pain by his rough breathing. Namie cast a cursory glance towards Monkey, noting that, without moving a step, he'd begun to lean forwards slightly in anticipation. The mild atmosphere that was usually present had curdled into something tense and unpredictable.

"Inori-sensei—?" The girl began to question in a quiet, dazed voice, but was deterred from continuing when the man in question held up a shaking hand.

He remained in this position for an uncomfortable thirty seconds, before slowly raising his head and, still slumped, with his elbows resting on his thighs, fixed the girl with a hesitant stare. "Namie-chan, you didn't do that on purpose?" His intoned voice held no trace of uncertainty. It wasn't exactly an accusation, either. But the usual, facetious warmth was absent. "Right?" He prompted, when her silence lasted a beat too long.

Namie sluggishly shook her head, willing the remaining cling of fuzziness away from her thoughts. "I don't know what happened." She focused her attention on the blond man's face, attempting to convey her own obvious confusion, though a moment later wished she'd kept her gaze elsewhere. Once his eyes met hers, a thin stream of blood trickled from his nose. Her eyes widened.

Static filled her ears.

_Red. Red. So much red. _

The liquid went unnoticed by the man until a few tiny droplets leaked onto his white coat, and the sudden, stark contrast captured the attention of everyone within the small room.

"Ah. This is…" She saw his lips move, knew he spoke, but the words were obscured. They sounded thick, heavy. Foreign.

Inori quickly rose to his feet and reached for a bundle of gauze, and with one quick glance towards the small blonde, he offered her a handful of the material as well.

When she didn't move, he spoke again. "Saru, handle this. I need to prep the machines."

There was a bit of shuffling, and the next thing she knew, the girl had the gauze pressed against her nose, head coaxed downwards so that she was staring at the tiled—blood-specked—floor, and then was led towards one of the cots that was usually hidden behind a drawn curtain.

Once she was seated on the thin white mattress, the ANBU addressed her in a heavy, muffled voice. "Pinch your nose."

When she made no move to obey, nor any sign of acknowledgement whatsoever, the man grabbed her fingers and forced her to follow the instructions, holding his hand over her own until her senses resettled and she clinched her fingertips on the soft cartilage of her nose. There was something familiar about the ginger touch—warm, concerned… it reminded her of Taji. No. It was definitely parental, in a manner, but it wasn't like Taji. It was too practiced, too mechanical. Taji was always too careful, and a little too hesitant, when it involved her.

Briefly, she placed the feeling to a memory, but it eluded her when she tried to grasp it and her fuzzy, swimming thoughts persisted.

After a moment, the shinobi removed the stained cloth from the girl's face and stepped away.

In the next instant—or what could have been later, since her sense of time was skewed— a nurse appeared at the girl's side and firmly yet gently directed her to lie down on the bed and rest. A damp sponge was swiped across the lower half of her face, an IV drip was inserted into her arm with swift precision, and a number of other wirings were hooked up to her head, and various other locations. Almost as soon as the nurse had materialized, she was once again out of sight, replaced by Inori. He began to speak, but his words were yet again obscured. His outline was grainy; grew hazy.

Darkness swallowed the room.

* * *

Namie woke with a start to an empty room. She glanced around wildly, made to sit up, and felt a sudden sting in her left arm. An IV needle was taped there, steadily delivering unknown fluids from a nearby packet.

The steady, maddening sounds of beeping machines met her ears, and she glanced sideways to see a health monitor of some sort, containing at least half a dozen wires that were once connected to her, now hanging limply.

There was a stiff soreness in her nose, along with the tanged scent of blood. She briefly recalled Inori's nosebleed, and then subsequently her own.

Something strange happened during his observation, though she could barely recall what. When she tried to think, it brought muffled pangs of pain. She let her head fall back onto the stiff, scratchy pillows.

This room was different than the one she usually met Inori in. The other had been small; personal, whereas this one was impersonal, with four beds—three of which were empty, she was certain, as there were no sounds aside from her own breathing in the area. The sterile, medical scent was still present and most of her surroundings were a stark white, save for the aqua-tinted curtains that separated each bedding unit. The curtain to her left had been drawn halfway to shield her from the doorway, as her cot was closest to the exit.

Her eyes wandered to the half-opened blinds along the far wall that admitted patchy streams of sunlight into the room. She could only see strips of blue sky and rooftops of buildings, whereas in the other room the windows only revealed trees.

It was still daytime; had been before she'd fallen asleep. There was no telling how long she'd been out. As she pondered this, the door to the room slid open with a muted shuffle and a familiar set of steps entered.

The curtain drew back to reveal the haggard—but smiling—face of Yamanaka Inori.

The blond shinobi regarded Namie with a flicker of surprise when their eyes connected before it vanished, replaced by polite relief. "Good to see you're awake." He moved forwards to assess the IV drip before pulling a chair to her bedside and collapsing into it with a sigh. "Had me worried there, you know, Namie-chan."

She ignored his irritating manner of addressing her in favor of finding answers. "What happened? What time is it?"

"It's only been an hour." Inori waved his hand, then leaned towards the girl to rest his elbows on his knees, setting them at eye-level. "You don't remember what happened?"

Namie shrugged. "A little. Something happened, you got a nosebleed, I got one, and then I passed out. Where's the monkey? Off on a banana break?" She questioned dryly, noting the other man's absence.

"Ah, he's, well," Inori scratched his head, looking just as perplexed as Namie felt. "He probably got called away. It's only necessary for him to stay here during the sessions, after all, and his job is pretty demanding." He observed the girl for a second longer. It was a good sign that her behavior was normal—lack of cuteness and all. He made a mental note to record that later when he had his clipboard.

"Why am I here?" The blonde girl cut in just as he prepared to speak.

The doctor's navy eyes studied the young girl carefully, gauging her nonverbal cues—the way her jaw set challengingly, the way her eyes only briefly met his own and largely remained hovering in the space just above her hands, the tiny, near-imperceptible tic below her right eyelid. Her flat, steady tone contradicted the obvious anxiety. He didn't blame her. The only other time she'd ever been admitted to the hospital had led to this situation. It was reasonable to fear something similar would occur.

Inori folded his fingers together, tapped them on the edge of the bedframe and slowly spoke. "I already asked, but I'll say it again. You didn't consciously push me out of your mind, right?"

Namie truthfully shook her head, then eyed him carefully. "No. I don't know how to do that."

"Naturally. But that's what happened." He shrugged, leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling thoughtfully. "It felt like I touched something I shouldn't have—the backlash was surprisingly strong. The fact that we both suffered attests to that." There was a brief pause. "Usually, your mind wouldn't do something that would hurt your own body." He indicated the nearby machine dismissively. "I ran a few diagnostic tests and you're perfectly fine, though."

"And you?" She asked, somewhat haltingly, expression deceivingly uninterested.

"Namie-chan, Is that concern I sense there?" The blond grinned widely, revealing his artificially white teeth. When the girl looked like she regretted her words, he continued. "I'm fine. I've had worse hangovers."

Her expression continued to darken as they lapsed into a mutual silence.

Namie broke it a few moments later. "What—what did you see?" Her seafoam-blue irises locked with his, searching.

"Nothing. Your mind is pretty much a barricade." He held the gaze, testing her resolve. "All I'm ever able to see clearly are your recent memories. For instance, last year's memories? Gone. Locked up tight." A hum. "It's not uncommon for that to be the case, but there's almost always a way to _un_lock and check through them."

"I'm guessing I'm the combo-breaker to 'always?'" She tried.

The blond nodded, folding one leg across his knee and leaning forward again. "Right on the money, Namie-chan. For now, you're a special case."

She very obviously flinched at that terminology. He noticed the movement, caught on to the fact that she saw him register it, but made no move to address the cause. "There's still a few things I have to look into. But with what happened earlier, I think you need a few months of recuperation. The mind heals much slower than the body after trauma, after all." He nodded to himself sagely. "Probably, two months rest will do you well. In the meantime, I'm having you kept here overnight—maybe two nights—as a precaution."

The notion to ask about Taji struck the girl, but then she remembered that the woman was out on a scouting mission.

"Your brother's being informed as we speak." Inori offered, picking up on the lonely expression. It quickly morphed into such a sharp glare that he could practically feel the needles. "It's all still confidential, don't worry about _that_. You're listed here under fatigue." He assured her. The girl nodded idly and fidgeted with the edges of the colorless blanket, much in a similar way to how she toyed with the hem of her shirt when she was agitated. It was a habit of hers he'd picked up on during their first few sessions together.

Inori regarded the eight-year-old quietly, expression largely unreadable, save for the small tilt to one of his eyebrows.

_He'd been so close._

For the first time in a year, he'd finally progressed in the study—only to be knocked down from his pedestal of accomplishment by the girl's inexplicable ability to refuse the family technique.

It wasn't impossible to reach beyond. He knew that now.

Only, Namikaze Namie's mind was an unscalable wall. He could climb and climb to reach the top and overcome it, yet when he felt he was finally close, it shot past his grasp, growing ever taller. And it _pushed back._

But he'd _seen_ something. In that brief moment lingering between success and failure, he'd finally, if only fleetingly, made contact with a thought—an abstract memory—quite unlike the others. Something strange; something foreign. Something misplaced in the mind of a child. Something _he_ could hardly understand.

And, if he wasn't mistaken—no, rather, he was absolutely certain—there were more like it behind the "wall."

As for what that meant? He didn't know. He'd once considered the possibility that she'd constructed the blockade to separate her adult mentality from her child existence, which was an issue that had occurred a handful of times before, but just by interacting with the girl he realized that was not the case. She was perfectly aware of her advanced state and didn't question it. The thought processes present within her head were clearly mature, and she acknowledged that fact. So much so, even, that she consciously readjusted her display of intelligence to match her outward appearance and age group.

There was something more to it. Something he was missing. The girl's mind—no less the _human_ mind—was a giant, intricate puzzle waiting to be solved—and he _did_ enjoy a challenge.

…But there was only so far, with current technology and knowledge, that he could test her limits before it would become detrimental to her health. Today's revelation proved that.

There existed the possibility that he would never discover the solution to her mysterious secret, for the sole reason that it could cause irreparable damage. To both of them. Not only that, but inflicting serious harm on the child was out of the question. She was still a child of the village; a skilled and valuable asset to Konoha. One day she would serve as a fine kunoichi.

For that reason, it was necessary to find a way to bypass—or even prevent—the side effects that occurred. He would have to consult external sources that did not come from the family archive.

"What?" Namie spoke up, realizing she was being observed.

Inori blinked. "Nothing. Only thinking." He glanced towards the window and laughed lightly. "Ah, see, it's nearly lunch time. I space out when I'm hungry." Namie made to shoot back a retort, but the man rose to his feet and dusted off his pants. "I have some things to finish up before then. Get some rest before your visitors arrive, Namie-chan."

Before the girl could protest that irritating addition of an honorific, the man was already halfway into the hallway, sliding the door shut with a parting wink.

Namie narrowed her eyes at the closed door before rolling over onto her side and, with little else to do, surrendering to slumber's hold.

* * *

Usually, Taji was the one to handle and be present for Namie's medical dilemmas—which were quite frequent over the course of the past year. The last time Namikaze Minato had been in a hospital for his sister's sake was when she was barely a week old.

Coupled with her alleged digestion problems and recent knee injury, the fact that she'd fainted and been admitted for fatigue was cause for justified concern. Probably, it wouldn't be a far stretch to say the events were connected, or direct consequences of each other.

His suspicion was her knack for overworking and stressing herself out. She always put her all into everything she did, be it studying or training, and it wasn't the first time her devotion had worried him.

But, could there be another cause? He'd been aware of it for a while, but these issues only began around the time of Kushina's kidnapping. Though at the time it had only seemed like a coincidence, he wondered if the event and Namie's sudden decline in health were correlated.

Most information regarding the failed kidnapping had been covered up and ordered confidential by Hokage decree—even those involved were highly discouraged from speaking about it amongst themselves. But, as part of a larger picture, there were murmuring rumors of other, less-obscured kidnappings occurring throughout Konoha, both before and after said event.

At indeterminable intervals, local children were being spirited away in the dead of night. There weren't numerous cases—only perhaps half a dozen scattered across the past thirteen months, and even then, most were orphans—yet none of these children had been recovered. The perpetrator was unknown. It could have been Kumogakure's doing, certainly, yet some of these children were not even of shinobi families. Not only that, border security had been tightened ever since Kushina's incident and children had _still_ gone missing afterwards.

Minato had been tasked with examining one of said kidnappings a few weeks before, only to come up as empty handed as the rest. For all intents and purposes, these children had simply…vanished. There was no evidence that the youngsters didn't simply choose to leave of their own volition, so these cases had gone largely uninvestigated.

However, something interesting he'd learned from the parents was that two of these children experienced varying levels of sickness shortly before their disappearance.

He was extremely reluctant to admit that, perhaps, Namie would become involved in such a matter.

'_I would never let that happen.'_ He promised, but only to himself, because it would be reckless to swear it to the girl herself and he would faster swallow a shuriken than break her trust. As an active chuunin, there were times he wouldn't be around to prevent such a thing from occurring. It was a small wonder that he was in Konoha the day Kushina had been kidnapped, even. If he'd been a moment slower in reacting…

The blond quickly shook those thoughts from his mind. It had already happened. It was long in the past, and things turned out for the better. There was no use in thinking back on the what-ifs.

His gaze traveled towards the small, sleeping girl. As always, when she slept, her expression was troubled. She did well to hide it in her waking moments, with reassuring, cocky grins and general contentment, but there was always something weighing on her mind when she thought the world was turned away.

Once before, and only once, he'd caught her crying in her sleep.

Sometimes he wished her inner thoughts were as much of an open book as her emotions, because otherwise she wouldn't speak a word of her troubles. Even Kushina had offhandedly mentioned the way Namie restrained herself.

The girl in question began to stir, and, slowly, her eyes flicked open to meet his own.

"Brother," she mumbled tiredly, throwing a hand up to rub away the exhaustion from her eyes and sitting up. A great yawn escaped her and she scratched at her head while blinking blearily.

"Namie," he greeted, smiling faintly. "Are you feeling better?"

She nodded. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she blinked, focusing her sight towards her hands that were set on her lap atop the bed covers. After a moment, she returned her gaze to him.

The room was silent—she'd listened for nurses' footsteps, for Inori's telltale gait, steady, measured, but she'd largely been left to her own devices. There was a chance some ANBU was skulking around unseen, though she highly doubted it. Minato was the only shinobi present.

Namie studied her brother's mildly concerned expression, still a calm mask revealing very little, before letting her eyes drift up towards his experience-scuffed Konoha forehead protector.

She hated making him worry. But more than that, she didn't want him to think she was weak. She'd tasked herself as his protector—both his and Kushina's—and there was no room for feebleness, not for a defender. It was bad enough seeing his sympathetic glances each time she was taken to meet with Inori in the hospital.

What would he think—what would he _say_, if she told him the truth? The notion to confess was brief, but strong.

Her entire existence was wrapped in lies. She'd always been a straightforward person, naturally withholding her share of secrets as any other, but as far as lying went, she avoided it as much as possible to prevent complexities. Here, as Namikaze Namie, she'd been a liar since birth. There was hardly a time when she could reveal her true self, true feelings, thoughts, to anyone. Everything about her was fabricated, with reality buried far, far beneath.

In that instance, if she _told_ him—really told him, let her innermost thoughts boil over, shared things that had no place in this world, at this time—what would happen?

She could tell him. She could do it and accept whatever consequences resulted. Even if those consequences were abandonment, imprisonment, isolation, exile, or whatever because being something she wasn't, keeping secrets, was so _damn hard._

Being watched over in such careful scrutiny, with such unabashed care, by someone who was her blood relation but not _truly_ a sibling—by someone who was none the wiser…

The charade became increasingly more difficult with each passing year.

"I had a bad dream," she spoke the words quickly, unfiltered, before she could take them back.

Minato's expression momentarily faltered, mouth hanging open in slight shock, as it may very well have been the first time his sister voluntarily shared such information. "Huh?"

"About you." She paused. "And Kushina-nee-chan."

There was another gap in which she took great deliberation before speaking again.

"You both died." Hands clenched tightly to the blankets. "And it felt so real and awful and I—" her voice caught. "I have a lot of nightmares. In one, Kushina-nee-chan was kidnapped—"

—There was a sharp intake of breath—

"—and I was so afraid she wouldn't come back, but then you ended up saving her." A beat of silence. "And in another, there was a monster—a big, terrifying thing with so much power and—" Again, she fell silent, and this time refrained from speaking. Speaking of the Kyuubi was far too much, far too soon. "In another, I was alone." She concluded, losing her stream of thought. What had been the purpose of that, she wondered. That impulsive, rambling speech.

Namie quickly glanced up towards Minato, checking his reaction. "But they were just dreams," she offered weakly, with an edge of desperation.

A hand was suddenly set on her shoulder and she was gently pushed back to the pillows. The same hand then patted her head, lightly, soothingly, and she became aware of the cold, clammy sweat that had coated her skin during the rant.

"They were just dreams," Minato agreed, quietly but quickly, looking nearly as panicked as she felt—only _nearly_ because, finally, his cool, responsible, reliable façade had bent and there was some other, raw emotion to interpret, no matter how small or fleeting. "Rest more, Namie. Don't worry about them right now. Just sleep."

There was a brief rustling, and, as the young girl complied, she couldn't help but feel that there were two pairs of eyes watching over her instead of just one.

* * *

The next time she awoke, there was a familiar face at her bedside.

"'Bout time you woke up, 'ttebane!"

"Kushina…?" Namie bolted into a sitting position. "Kushina-nee-chan! Where's Minato?"

Kushina's grin drooped into a pout. "Not so excited to see me, huh?"

"No, I am, I just—"

The redhead harrumphed. "Ha! Save it. I see your priorities." After a moment, she smiled at the blonde. "Your dependable older brother went to get you some grub. It's already dinner time, you know? You were out for a while." She glanced away thoughtfully. "What happened, anyways? You okay, Namie-chan?" Her tone became gentle, tentative, nearer to the end.

"I just overworked myself, I guess." Namie muttered, recalling she was admitted due to fatigue. "I'm fine, Kushina-nee-chan."

The redheaded Uzumaki scrutinized her with sharp violet eyes for a moment before shrugging. "If you say so. I mean, I would _hope_ so, because it just so happens that we can start training together again soon."

The blonde's expression brightened. "Really?"

"You betcha!" Kushina beamed. She opened her mouth to say more, but the sound of an abrupt knock cut her off.

"Come in?" Namie spoke after exchanging glances with her mentor, eyeing the door curiously.

There was a moment's hesitation, but then the door slid open to reveal a handful of familiar faces and seven children stumbled in. They stood, in varying levels of awe and adoration, and a bit of fear, as their eyes landed on Kushina. Someone mumbled something about Namie being amazing for not lying, but the words were unclear.

"Who are these punks?" She questioned the blonde in confusion, raising a brow.

"Classmates." Namie answered, just as baffled. "Suzu-chan," she began, scanning their faces, "Genma-kun, Ebisu-kun, Aoba-kun, Raidou-kun, Toriichi-kun." She paused. "Inuzuka. What are you all doing here?"

Genma, unofficial ringleader and always the voice of reason, spoke first, before Toboe could shoot back a scathing reply at the manner of address. "We heard you were in the hospital."

"But that only happened this morning—"

"New travels fast in Konoha," Suzume provided.

During this exchange, Kushina flipped her gaze wildly between the group and her blonde friend. _'Since when did she get friends of her own? And so many?!'_

"Kushina-nee-chan," Namie spoke, to which the redhead immediately returned her attention, "They've been wanting to meet you. Apparently you have a reputation as 'Habanero-sama' in the neighborhood."

"_Haba—_" She choked. She'd done her best to keep Namie from learning her nickname, for the sole reason that she would shorten it to _that_ and probably never let her live it down. "Ah, ahahah!" She guffawed, jumping to her feet and setting her hands on her hips imposingly. "You brats have heard of me, huh?"

They were a motley crew, that much was clear—but it only made sense that someone like Namie attracted a ragtag bunch. They looked, overall, uninteresting, with blank, drooling kiddy faces—except for the cool one with the dango stick in his mouth and the prickly Inuzuka. The other—the only girl—seemed like she had a good head on her shoulders, too. Only about half of them seemed even remotely excited to meet her.

"That's right, I'm Uzumaki Kushina, the Red Hot Habanero—and one day I'm going to be Konoha's first female Hokage! Get in my way and I'll beat you to a pulp, 'ttebane!"

Namie very nearly dropped her face into her hands at the hot-blooded display. She was almost as bad as Jiraiya.

At that moment, the door opened to admit yet another visitor—one who caused the redhead to stop short and tense up, looking mortified. The group of kids turned their attention to the entrance to see just who could possibly affect the Habanero-sama in such a way.

Minato stood in the doorway with a tray of food in his hands and an expression that looked like he was trying—with extreme sincerity—not to laugh. Instead, he forced a smile. "Kushina…"

Said redhead blatantly avoided the blond teenager's eyes and instead grinned awkwardly at Namie as her face steadily reddened. "H-hey, look at that! Dinner!"

Namie couldn't resist the urge to facepalm and resigned herself to the action.

Minato glanced at the children littering the room. "Are you Namie's classmates?"

"Yep. Who're you, nii-san?" Raidou piped up among a series of nods. Half of the boys were still starstruck by Kushina' s mere presence.

"I'm her brother, Minato." He supplied, smiling politely. "Thank you for coming to visit Namie, but—"

"Y-yeah! It was a nice effort and all, but she needs some space! You know, time to eat and all." Kushina added loudly, still very clearly embarrassed. "You can always come back later, 'ttebane!"

At that moment, the door opened yet again to reveal the scowl of an irritated nurse. "You kids are too loud! Rule's two visitors at a time, and the loud ones can stay in the lobby!"

A defeated look spread over Kushina's face as she received the brunt of the nurse's glare. Then, after gathering herself and salvaging her dignity, she ushered (shoved) the group of students out of the room under the Nurse's watchful stink eye. "R-right. Let's let Namie-chan have her peace!"

Minato simply stood to the side as this episode occurred, smiling in amusement. Once the room was cleared, he silently approached Namie and set the tray of food on her bedside table. "There wasn't a lot to choose from," he commented mildly. "But it's better than whatever we would normally eat for dinner without Taji around, anyway."

Namie glanced at the lukewarm plate of food—a simple meal of rice and fish—and nodded sagely. If Kushina had been the one to bring her meal, no doubt it would have been ramen. "Thanks, Brother. What about you? What are you going to eat?"

Minato rubbed the back of his neck. "Kushina actually made me a big lunch—a little _too_ big—so I'm eating leftovers."

If she wasn't mistaken, his cheeks had turned ever-so-slightly pink.

She smirked. "I see." They lapsed into silence as she began to pick at the entrée. The day's events had left her strangely hungry—and what a day it had turned out to be.

At the very least, she felt well-rested.

"Namie," the boy spoke up as soon as his sister finished her meal and drained the small cup of juice that accompanied it, "are you feeling better?" There was a quiet, pointed undertone to his question that harkened back to the bleary almost-breakdown from earlier that day.

The blonde set the cup down with a dull, hollow thud and nodded slowly.

"I am."

It was only a partial lie.

* * *

**A/N: **You know, it's not like I have this hidden agenda of withholding information from you all and building things up slowly in order to spring something really intensely dramatic out of the blue. …Actually, don't trust me. I might be a liar. But things will happen as they do. I just really like building up plot and working on character development. And I do plan on explaining Namie's mental block ability/whatever it is (I know exactly what it is, don't worry), eventually. It's not going to remain as something vague and hardly touched upon like it was in this chapter.

Anyway, that's it for stocked up chapters. I _am _working on the next but it's not quite done and I'm taking a small break since I've worked on this nonstop pretty much since April. I have no intentions of abandoning it, though. I've put too much time and effort into it for that, and things have been planned out so I won't lose my way. I want to say there are many interesting things in store—at least,_ I'm_ excited about where this is going, hehe.

Thank you so much for all reads/faves/follows! And reviewers: **Kasuke. Hagase, milpld, LittleRedRWBY, Bananarock509, Lady Syndra, Vaughn Tyler, KoriYukiYao, coronadomontes, 10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat, KisaragiMarru, Sethera, littlemelonatplay, Flor, ****Deluxemclovin,** and **MythologyGirl**. Thanks for all the support.

General review replies are in the same place as usual (kettobase on dreamwidth).


	16. Fourteen: First Date, Fateful Meeting

**Chapter Fourteen SPECIAL: First Date/ Fateful Meeting**

**If you don't really care for reading KushiMina fluff, feel free to skip to about the bottom half of this chapter for the plot-relevant scenes. **

* * *

There came a time in every person's life when they encountered a very specific situation that would shape their future and their outlook on the more tender side of things from that point onwards.

It was first love.

Or, more accurately, the very first _date_ with that first love interest. The event that would make or break the relationship.

For some, this innocent love went unrequited and never moved past the state of adoration. For some, it ended in rejection. But for the lucky ones, it had the potential to lead to something more.

While Uzumaki Kushina and Namikaze Minato had known each other for quite a while and had steadily been growing closer in their teenage years, they had yet to interact in an actual, official date.

She'd made a painstakingly devoted effort to prepare lunchboxes for the blond who'd captured her heart (of which he'd eaten every single bite, regardless of taste), he'd made an effort to escort her and keep her company whenever they chanced a meeting, and she'd even been invited over to dinner with the family a handful of times (she'd never refused, even if it meant she would have to ditch training with her sensei). Beyond that, there wasn't much development in the romance department. If anything, the subject was being danced around and treated with care. In other words, they were avoiding it.

However, this was soon to change.

Because, though they were both still young, they had reached the age where they were growing and maturing, where babyish-round faces and childlike appearances were being shed, replaced by sharp angles and long, graceful limbs. Though, there was also the awkward impasse phase that involved growing accustomed to these changes.

Along with this shift came the shocking realization that, because they'd only paid attention to each other as members of the opposite sex, they neglected to notice that there were _others_ who had begun to discover this fact as well.

When Kushina realized that Minato had attracted quite a sizeable fanbase of admirers, Training Field Eight suffered extensive damage that knocked it off the roster for a week.

When a pretty young civilian girl approached the blond and gifted him with a bento box—which was not _nearly_ as beautiful as her own, Kushina noted spitefully—Training Field Eight was once again thrashed and the damage extended to the edges of Seven and Nine as well. She'd received a warning and was banned from employing whatever techniques had caused such devastation twice in a row without supervision, and was barred from using the training grounds for two weeks.

After that incident, she'd taken to controlling her jealousy and channeling her displeasure by instead glaring at whatever other females tried to approach Minato when she was around.

It was moderately effective (with the added bonus of sparking rumors of a red, nine-tailed phantom lurking around Konoha), but she couldn't_ constantly_ deflect the other girls' advances—and she was beginning to feel like an overprotective guard dog. Not only that, but Minato discouraged her from appearing so unfriendly and aggressive towards others. He seemed wholly oblivious to the implications of her behavior.

So, she took a step back and evaluated their relationship, knowing full well what her feelings on the matter were about, but wondering if he felt the same.

For the past two years she'd been head over heels for the boy, but these feelings had gone largely unspoken. It was difficult for her to voice them, in part due to the nine-tailed passenger she now hosted. The fear that—perhaps—her object of affection would reject her for being a jinchuuriki persistently gnawed at her thoughts.

Little known to the redheaded Uzumaki, the very first time another boy showed interest in her, Minato refused to accept missions outside of Konoha for an entire week.

They cared for each other deeply in their own ways, but there was an error in communication on both ends.

A little push was needed to move things along.

And, as Jiraiya had requested, Namie was tasked with accomplishing that. Though, subtle hinting and matchmaking were far from her interests or skill level. Much like the time she'd set up their first "dinner date," which wasn't even a real date since she and Taji were present, her manner of executing things involved a little force and manipulation that only children capable of smiling brightly and innocently were capable of doing.

That, and a shameless affinity for bluntness.

"So, when are you and Kushina-nee-chan gonna go on a proper date, Brother?" She'd asked cheerfully, with a grin that came off as more smug than innocent, as she sat snuggled amongst a pile of pillows and blankets on the living room floor to fend off the frigid winter afternoon and browsed through a manual on basic jutsus.

Winters in Konoha were typically mild, but some years brought an exception to the climate. Though, she had yet to witness snowfall. Probably, extreme frost in the Land of Fire was something incredibly rare, given the name and geography.

Minato was settled on the couch behind her, studying numerous scrolls and texts regarding certain techniques that Jiraiya wanted him to accomplish since his senjutsu lessons had progressed so smoothly. He'd been captivated by the contents until Kushina's name was mentioned—the moment the word "date" was spoken, his grip on the scroll went lax and he quite nearly dropped it. To save face, he rolled it back up into a cylinder and set it aside in favor of a random book, which he looked over thoughtfully before glancing down at his sister.

Ever since her stay in the hospital two months ago, she'd recovered to a healthy state and since had no need to return to the place for her usual check-ups—but along with that was a change in personality. Particularly, regarding Kushina. She'd actually become strangely nosy. But it was a small price to pay for the fact that she'd grown to be more open and honest regarding certain things. That same cautious restraint from before was still present, but to a lesser extent. She'd chosen to share her nightmares whenever they occurred, and in turn some of her fears. And also, though rarely, her complaints about some of her friends.

Sometimes, it concerned him that she hung around a group that consisted largely of boys. Especially when she was so apt at picking up on situations like _this _and mentioning words like _that._

"Date?" He repeated, feigning ignorance.

Namie's grin widened. Her brother was already at that age where hormones were kicking in and the quality of his voice was steadily changing—it amused her to no end when it went hoarse and cracked at random moments, like now. It just_ ruined_ his nonchalant behavior. She wouldn't give him grief over it, though. Kushina probably teased him enough for the both of them.

"Yeah, date. I'm a girl, you know. We can pick up on these things. You two obviously like each other." She sighed, grin fading, as she set her book down and glanced to the window. "Actually, probably all of Konoha knows it."

"All of Konoha—? I think that's an exaggeration."

"You didn't deny it, Brother!"

"Well—"

Namie scrambled up onto the couch beside her sibling with another grin. "You've liked her for a while, right?" She waited for a response, but he didn't speak fast enough for her tastes. "Why not make it official, then?" She canted her head to the side curiously.

"Namie…just where did you hear about these kinds of things? You're not—" he paused, "_you're_ not dating someone, are you?" His eyebrows furrowed in concern. She was a child—just eight—but did young girls focus on romance at such a young age? He could only vaguely recall the female classmates from his own Academy days, so he couldn't be sure if this type of thing was common.

Regardless, he had paid particular attention to how close she and her cool, bandana-wearing classmate had grown, though they'd always come off as friends more than anything else. It was actually the Inuzuka classmate he was worried about, since he paid the little blonde a great deal of attention despite her obvious dislike for him. If she didn't have two female friends in her small social circle, he had a feeling he would fret over this topic more than he already did.

It was going to be a nightmare when she became a teenager.

"Me?" Namie asked, expression contorting as she mused over who he was hinting at. Of all of her classmates, she only interacted extensively with three: Suzume, Toboe and Genma. It was unlikely he was talking about Suzume, she refused to even consider Toboe as an option, and Genma was too much of a pretty boy and one of the girls' favorites, so he already had more attention than he knew how to handle. There was no reason for him to think she was involved with any of them. "Don't change the subject, Brother." She countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Right, right…" Minato sighed. He didn't know why he worried about _her_—with that personality, she wouldn't pick just any random kid as a boyfriend. "I do—like her, I mean." He scratched at the back of his head. "But don't these things just kind of happen naturally?"

The girl regarded him with pursed lips. "You think someone else won't come along and try to woo her while you just wait it out? That's kinda naïve, Brother."

The older blond nearly flinched. _'She's so blunt. When did Namie learn how to speak so directly?'_ He sighed again and leaned back into the couch cushions. No matter how she spoke it, she had a point. But he had faith that no one else would come between them—maybe he was too confident?

"So I should…take Kushina on a date?" His tone was uncertain. He wasn't even sure where to take her.

Namie nodded brightly. "I'm sure it'll make her happy."

* * *

For all her meddling, the young blonde hadn't expected her brother to act so quickly, but only a mere two days later the young almost-couple was scheduled for their very first date. And out of sheer concern—not due to nosiness _at all_—Namie decided to tail them.

Only, she hadn't expected to have _company. _

"…Remind me, what are you two doing here, again?" Namie muttered, side-eyeing her two (or three, if the small brown canine counted) fellow spies.

The first, a frail-looking kunoichi with long, dark hair and pale skin—no older than Kushina—who bore the Uchiha insignia on the back of her wide-collared blouse, had briefly introduced herself as Mikoto if only to satisfy the younger girl's prying.

Mikoto. Yes, _that_ Mikoto. Itachi and Sasuke's _mom_ Mikoto.

Though Uchiha Mikoto had the appearance of a delicate porcelain doll, her attitude was the complete opposite. Similar to the redheaded Uzumaki, this kunoichi was also a spitfire, though somewhat subdued due to her doubtlessly noble clan upbringing. She was heavily reminiscent of Suzume in that respect.

It wasn't Namie's plan to keep bumping into important Uchiha figures—somehow, it just kept happening—and for that reason she largely decided to ignore the young woman—though her reason for being present was greatly apparent. The way she was staring at her older brother made Namie want to give him warning and send him running for the hills.

'_I feel so sorry for you, Brother…you attract the crazy ones. But at least she ends up with _Fugaku _eventually.'_ She shook her head as a pained expression crossed her face, and she did her best to stifle it before glancing past the jealous fangirl (she was all but biting her handkerchief and bawling at the sight of Minato and Kushina walking together) to glare at the second offender.

Inuzuka Toboe.

That dog boy was the last person she'd expected to encounter during this date-stalking mission (Jiraiya had said it: consider Minato's love life like a special mission assigned from him), and yet, here he was. Looking extremely bored and completely uninterested in the subject matter at hand and instead focusing his attention on his blonde classmate and meeting her glare with a sneer of his own.

Naturally, a sparring match between the two was long overdue and he was obnoxiously calling out a challenge.

Because of that, he was only going to hinder her current objective.

No, rather, both of the other stalkers were obstacles to her immediate goals. Mikoto looked as if she would pounce the moment something she didn't approve of occurred, and Toboe was a consistent distraction.

There was no way to ditch either of the two because the Uchiha girl was taking up camp in all of the best spying locations as they tailed their targets and Toboe was capable of sniffing out her trail and catching up no matter where she went.

She knew this because she'd already tried throwing both of them off.

She'd come to the decision that it was best to resign herself to their company and simply look on while keeping both of them out of sight.

Mikoto's eyes turned up into crescents as she smiled in response to the little blonde's unhappy question. "Well, that's because you promised to formally introduce me to your dear brother as soon as that—_Uzumaki girl—_isn't around. Isn't that right, Namie-chan?" Her tone was contradictive to her behavior, and that was frightening. It was sugary-sweet and completely endearing, for a stalker hiding behind a trash can.

'_Uchihas.'_ Namie sighed, that pained look threatening to surface once again. And her words were the truth—to keep the dark-haired teenager from interrupting Minato and Kushina's date, she'd sworn to introduce Mikoto to the former in exchange for her keeping out of their business for the day. "Right, right." She agreed reluctantly. She didn't even have the heart to tell the older girl to drop the irritating honorific—she gave off the same sort of vibe as Inori so it was most likely futile to ask.

"Then, Inuzuka, I've already declined to fight you today, so why are you still here?" She wondered, lips pressed into a thin line. The Academy was currently closed for winter break, so, unable to nag her while on school grounds, the boy was set on bothering her everywhere else. It didn't help that taijutsu class had been divided based on skill level so that sparring matches were held between those with like ability. It just so happened that the brunet was a bracket below, so they hadn't been set to fight each other in quite some time.

Toboe scoffed, scratching at his short auburn ponytail and narrowing one hazel eye at the blonde. "I'm not taking no for an answer, Strawhead. It's been _weeks!_"

"No chance for a reschedule? I'm pretty busy, as you can see."

The brunet shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Hardly counts as busy. Looks to me like you're just some kinda nosy _brother complex._"

Namie balked, her hand slipping from the trash can lid and nearly sending it toppling over before her reflexes kicked in and she quickly stilled it. A nervous sweat trickled across her skin as she glanced at the boy and dog kneeled beside her, eyebrows furrowed. There was no way he was capable of knowing that kind of term on his own—he wasn't that attuned to, well, _people_, she'd noticed. But he'd definitely heard it from someone, most likely at the Academy, and that meant their classmates were gossiping strange things about her again.

Who was the source this time? And just where did they get _that_ idea?

Sure, she loved Minato because he was her one and only older brother, her only blood in this world, but no one knew the truth behind that. The truth behind her situation. There was no way she could ever think of him in_ that_ manner. She only wanted to keep him safe, and happy, to protect him from his doomed future, which was ticking closer by the second—

Well. Maybe it was partially true.

Maybe she _did_ have a slight brother complex, but it definitely wasn't the kind that Toboe's claim implied—or rather, what she understood his words to mean. This was the first time she'd ever heard the phrase with her ears and not simply read about it, so she couldn't help but react with shock.

Whatever the case, it was absolutely none of their business and, particularly, they had no right to blab about it.

"Brother complex?" Mikoto briefly glanced her way, expression slightly pinched but irritation hidden behind a calm smile—a deceptive, artfully-crafted façade—before Namie shook her head and waved her hands to deny the accusation and diffuse the ticking time bomb she'd discovered the girl to be (the girl _would_ become Itachi and Sasuke's mother, after all, as well as Fugaku's wife—no weak-willed woman could handle those three together).

Instead, she whirled on the Inuzuka, hand raised and ready to sock him in the arm for even _thinking_ that, until she caught sight of his crooked grin and the way his eyes lit up in anticipation—he was baiting her. Trying to get under her skin, trying to get her fighting spirits riled.

_And she nearly fell for it. _

"I don't have a brother complex, not even one _bit_, so don't you ever say that again, you fleabag—I wasn't talking to you, Kurocha," she added quickly, taking a moment to scratch said pup between the ears.

Scowling, she turned her head away and glanced towards the village streets, honing her sights on the yellow-haired boy and redheaded girl who were leisurely browsing the market stalls together and ignoring her classmate's disappointed grumbles.

* * *

This entire situation was…surreal.

Kushina wasn't certain how to handle it—she wasn't even certain how exactly she'd come to agree to going out on a date (a real, actual _date _that wasn't just sitting in on family dinners with Namie-brat or meeting up for brief chit-chats after training and missions) with Namikaze Minato in the first place.

Probably, she'd been so overjoyed at the suggestion that she jumped at the chance. It wasn't only an overwhelming victory over those other girls who sent the googly-eyes towards the blond, but it was also confirmation that _he_ chose _her_.

Only, she hadn't stopped to think about what this kind of level in their relationship entailed—not at that time.

If they continued along this path, she knew that sooner or later (and sooner was inevitable) she would have to tell him about the Kyuubi residing within her. And that meant that she would face either acceptance or rejection.

The mere thought that _rejection _could play into the equation at all made her regret her decision to accompany him that afternoon.

Sure, he seemed fond of her now—and her feelings for him were beyond words—but would it remain that way when the cat—or rather, giant fox beast—was let out of the bag?

Kushina twisted a strand of hair—that thick, thread-like red hair that she'd once hated, until Minato came along—worriedly between her fingers as she wandered the marketplace at said blond's side.

The marketplace was as crowded as ever despite the cool winter weather, but the several bodies cramped together along the narrow street way did well to ward off the chill. But the downside to that was that most everyone was forced to walk closely together, shoulder-to-shoulder, just to navigate the area.

Once or twice already, their hands had bumped against each other, and she couldn't help but recoil at the contact. If he noticed, he chose to overlook her odd reaction. Though he did seem to be aware that she was far from comfortable, because he ensured there were no awkward silences by consistently keeping up small talk and asking her simple questions.

He was sweet.

However, that sweetness could have been conditional—reserved for girls who _weren't_ jinchuuriki. The idea that he might view her differently gnawed at her mind. Maybe it would be best to just rip off the band-aid and confess, if only to end this ceaseless worrying.

'_Yeah, right. What a great idea! Drop the biggest bombshell possible on our first date together and don't be surprised when it also turns out to be the very last later on, 'ttebane.'_

Kushina's lips twisted into a displeased pout as she focused her attention on a small selection of fine, artfully-lacquered hair pins and barrettes displayed in a nearby kiosk. She didn't realize she'd stopped walking until Minato's voice sounded from beside her.

"Do you like it?" He asked softly, following her line of sight to the tray of pins. He reached out and gently grasped one of the thin, indigo and ivory-shellacked barrettes, evidently assuming this was what had caught her attention and halted her in her tracks. With a small smile, he held the pin up towards her hair, where her old, faded-and-slightly-cracked, blue hair clip currently held her bangs away from her eyes.

For the first time that day, Kushina was face-to-face with the blond teenager—and it occurred to her that this was the first time she'd seen him without his forehead protector since their Academy days. His expression was much softer without that battle-worn badge defining him as an experienced shinobi—and his bright hair was much fluffier and not so tame without the bandana to tie it down. That, and, with the close proximity between them, she realized that his eyes weren't a single, even shade of that pleasant blue she was familiar with—they were mixed with some specks of greenish-turquoise as well. She couldn't hold his gaze for long and quickly looked away, forcing a broad grin. "I—uh, whaddya think, 'ttebane?!"

"I think it suits you, Kushina." Minato admitted honestly.

Heat rushed to the redhead's cheeks and her violet eyes snapped back towards the blond. "Really?"

"It really does," he confirmed, "will you let me buy it for you?"

Kushina's jaw unhinged slightly before she shook her head wildly to decline. "N-no way, something so fancy—I mean, it's probably expensive, right, dattebane? You really don't have to, Minato—"

"Don't worry about it, I really want to." Minato persisted, face coloring slightly as his voice caught mid-sentence. A somewhat embarrassed grin crossed his face as he rubbed the back of his head and retreated to put some distance between them.

Kushina pressed a hand to her face as her skin continued to turn scarlet. No doubt she looked like a tomato. "Well…if you want to, 'ttebane. I won't—I won't stop you, you know." She grinned unsteadily, directing her gaze anywhere but towards the blond chuunin.

He watched her for a moment, lips quirked in a fond smile, before he turned to speak with the stall owner.

'_But...is this really okay?'_ Kushina wondered, wringing a strand of hair between her fingers as she watched Minato's back.

* * *

Minato noticed Kushina's strange behavior early on—rather, he'd noticed it for a while. Maybe it was because he'd fine-tuned his instincts towards secretive habits from being near his sister, but whatever the case, there was definitely something eating away at Kushina and she wasn't willing to share what exactly that was.

He wasn't fond of prying. Just like with Namie, he would sit quietly and wait for the redhead to open up and share her burdens.

So, for now, his priority was to distract Kushina from her worries and ensure that she enjoyed their time together.

Their date.

Their _first_ date.

He did his best to remain composed, but he was certainly glad that she'd agreed to go out with him that day. Maybe it was a good thing that he'd set this up instead of waiting for things to play out naturally.

Minato thanked the shopkeeper as he accepted the small gift bag containing Kushina's hair clip and turned to find her in the crowd.

She stood in the same place she'd been the whole time—he wasn't completely sure why, but because of her behavior, he was somewhat worried she would take off running when she got the chance. If he said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing…

He looked down at the paper bag sitting in his hand before glancing at the redheaded girl. She was looking elsewhere, eyes reflecting worry among that troubled expression that had become habitual when she thought no one was looking her way or paying particular attention to her.

Of course, he had a hunch as to what was distressing her. Ever since her arrival in Konoha, she was a topic of special interest. Not only because she was the second Uzumaki within the village, but because she was being cared for at the Senju compound, near the late Uzumaki Mito. Most attention aimed towards her had been negative for her status as an outsider, and with her wild reputation, but some of the gossip contained interesting information.

Information regarding the nine-tailed chakra beast.

It was no secret that Mito was the previous jinchuuriki up until her death of old age—after a few years, confidentiality on certain top-secret matters faded and gossip spread like wildfire. And, apparently, Mito had contained the Kyuubi for several years.

Since he'd gained clearance to certain areas within the library and a multitude of documents that were banned to shinobi of lower ranks, he spent some time researching the issue.

Kushina's homeland—Uzushiogakure—was no more, obliterated during the second war, but her clan was host to a lineage of hearty, resilient individuals skilled in fuinjutsu. The fact that she—and _only_ she—had been brought to Konoha struck him as odd.

It was only a theory, and there was no one he could openly confirm it with, but he'd come to the shaky conclusion that Kushina was the new jinchuuriki for the Ninetails.

Certainly, he didn't like to pry, but at times his curiosity got the better of him. He wouldn't speak a word of his findings, however, as the information wasn't his own to share.

If that was the case (and he was mostly convinced it was), he could only imagine how isolated and alone Kushina felt. Seeing her hassled over being an outsider when they were younger had been difficult enough, but this was on a completely different level compared to that.

He wanted her to be happy.

"Kushina," Minato called, instantly gaining the girl's attention. The sadness fled immediately from her eyes and a shaky grin spread across her face. He held out the gift bag and, uncertainly, with one cautious eyebrow raised, the redhead stretched out her own hands to receive it.

She stared down at the little paper bag containing her gift—the first gift he'd ever given her—and was silent for a few moments before speaking. "Umm, Minato? There's something I wanna tell you, 'ttebane." Her tone was sure, determined, and though the troubled look was still present, she seemed to have reached an important decision.

The smile returned to his face. "There's a park nearby." He seemed to debate it for a moment, but eventually decided to hold out his hand.

Kushina gingerly accepted it.

* * *

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Toboe complained loudly, sticking out his tongue as he rolled his eyes at the scene. With a sigh, he leaned back against the side wall of one of the two buildings that flanked the small alleyway they were hiding in, Kurocha nestled comfortably in his lap.

"I agree." Mikoto sniffed, lips puffed out in a pout.

Namie's face reddened as she glared at the two. While she certainly wasn't one for romance, watching the blossoming relationship between her two favorite people was certainly endearing. She'd been worried, at first, seeing how distant and troubled Kushina seemed, but when she took Minato's hand it came as a great relief. Those two could work out their issues on their own.

She was confident this dating experience was going to end up positive for the both of them.

"It's time to go." Namie decided once Kushina and Minato were out of sight. "As in, go home. The mission's over."

"Huuuh?" The Uchiha heiress whined, glancing up at the blonde from her crouched position with her dark eyes wide. "No way, what happened to letting me meet Minato-kun?" A silly smile crossed her face at the mention of said blond's name.

The younger Namikaze barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "That's not really a good thing to do following their date. He'll be too preoccupied thinking over the day's events. Probably will be for a while, actually."

Truthfully, she never intended on letting Mikoto anywhere near Minato. With some luck, she and Fugaku would be set up together in an arranged marriage sometime soon to prevent said girl from hounding her brother. Though, seeing as Fugaku was a handful of years older than the Uchiha girl, that probably wouldn't happen for a few more years.

Maybe she should leave protecting Minato to Kushina since it looked like they were officially an item now.

"Hm, you're right. It probably would be better to do that another day. A day where it's just us!" Mikoto beamed, rising to her feet to brush off her pants.

Didn't those two somehow become friends later on in their adult years? Namie wondered how_ that_ came about. As of this moment, there was no way they would become besties anytime soon.

Toboe was instantly on his feet as well. "So, what now, Strawhead, time to fight?"

Right. She'd forgotten there was actually a reason the Inuzuka was hanging around.

Namie's face contorted painfully. Briefly, as a desperate last resort, she glanced pleadingly at the Uchiha.

Mikoto eyed her impassively before clapping her hands together and grinning a crescent-eyed grin. "Ah, that's right! Namie-chan, there's something I want to give you back at the compound, remember? We better go before it gets too late!"

Namie shrugged helplessly at her classmate. "You heard her. I still have things to do."

One of Toboe's abnormally sharpened canine teeth poked past his lips as he scowled and shoved his hands deep into his gray shirt's front pocket. "So that's a no? Jeez, I waited around for this long just to get rejected?"

"You were rejected from the start," the blond murmured, running a hand through her bangs and glancing towards Kurocha, who Mikoto was fawning over. Neither of them had any interest in a children's squabble.

"Whatever. Don't think I'm gonna give up. Genma told me where you live!" With one final jab, Toboe stuck out his tongue and turned to scamper away, with his ninken following closely at his heels and leaving Mikoto looking somber.

"What a brat." She commented quietly.

"You're telling me."

Mikoto raised an eyebrow curiously, but the blonde girl simply shrugged and turned to follow her classmate's retreating trail. "Ah, wait!" The dark-haired girl called, hurrying to catch up. "I wasn't lying—lying isn't proper, really—there is something I'd like to give you, if you don't mind."

Namie mentally cringed at the first part of that sentence, but quickly overcame it and blinked owlishly at the Uchiha girl. "Really? Like what?" She didn't think she'd made a particularly good impression on the kunoichi, so it was a wonder she wanted her to hang around.

Mikoto laced her fingers together behind her back as she continued walking and hummed thoughtfully. "You'll see. Come on, let's get going."

* * *

The Uchiha compound—or rather, that entire section of Konoha—was somewhere Namie had never set foot. It was an isolated area she never had purpose in visiting, since she wasn't acquainted with any Uchihas (thankfully) and the same applied for her family. Mostly, the Uchiha clan members remained within their own boundaries, rarely traveling past the property lines unless they were shinobi or members of the police force. The compound was similar to a small village, a tenth, no, possibly a fifteenth the size of Konoha, with its own market area and festival space. Mostly, festivals took place near the Naka river, which cut through the compound.

Still, the clan was quite large, though nowhere near as prominent as it once was as a founding family. The Hyuuga clan was currently the most prominent, with the Sarutobi clan second and the Uchiha clan coming third, nearly tied with the Nara clan.

Apparently, Mikoto was from an immediate branch to the main family, the only daughter to the cousins of the main family, whose current head was Fugaku's grandfather. His parents had both been casualties in the second war—as had Mikoto's own mother—so he would be inheriting headship as soon as his grandfather passed away, since he was the eldest of his two siblings.

Namie learned this from Mikoto, who yakked hear ear off during the entire trip there.

Before, she'd been doubtful that Kushina and Mikoto could ever become friends, but with the way both liked to jabber on and on and gossip, it was no wonder they would end up that way in the future.

'_But I doubt _we'll_ ever get along.'_

"Here we are!" Mikoto called happily, spreading her arms out to display the grandeur of her family compound.

It was huge, indeed, but not that impressive. Namie smiled wryly. "Here we are." It was strange—these people were all living and breathing, but one day they would all be eliminated. Well, that event was still quite a few years ahead—some of the ones who would perish weren't even _alive_ yet. Not even Sasuke and Itachi were alive, yet.

She wasn't even certain Obito was alive yet.

Her knowledge of the massacre this clan would encounter in the future was a great landmine—was it something she would want to prevent? Was it something she would be capable of changing? How badly would that wreck the canon timeline? But at the same time, all of these people…they were most certainly alive. They hadn't done a thing. Not yet, anyway. did they truly deserve such a fate?

Probably, if she encountered Obito, an important component of executing the Uchiha massacre, change would be within her reach.

Only, that wasn't her priority. Obito was also the cause behind several other factors—namely, Minato and Kushina's death at Kyuubi's claws.

If she ever encountered Obito, she wasn't quite certain what she would do.

"What are you waiting for, Namie-chan? Come on!" Namie was distracted by Mikoto's cheerful waving. Reluctantly, she set foot past the compound's gates and entered the community.

She'd never felt so out of place.

It was like she'd trespassed onto sacred land, as an outsider. An extremely unwelcomed outsider. Her bright blonde hair stuck out blatantly against the standard dark-hair of the majority of the Uchihas. Some had varying shades of other dark colors, like Mikoto's raven-blue, but most tended to be brunettes. There were definitely no blondes.

And definitely no one with blue eyes.

Maybe she'd only imagined all of the staring, but she couldn't shake the feeling that all eyes were on her as she tagged along after Mikoto.

Weren't the Uchihas all extremely private? Did they even allow visitors that weren't related to the clan?

_Did the Hokage even merit visits?_

She definitely wasn't imagining the paranoia. An elderly woman's eyes nearly bugged out the moment she spotted Namie, and she dropped what she was doing to rush inside and away from their sights—probably to fetch her husband or child to report the strange sighting.

Mikoto seemed wholly unperturbed by her clanmate's reactions, and oblivious to Namie's discomfort, and simply continued on blithely.

They hadn't even moved thirty paces into the compound before someone barred their way.

Namie's eyes startled open when she spotted another familiar Uchiha—fate was not her friend, so of course it was none other than Fugaku. Older than the last time they'd met, naturally, but his face was one that couldn't be forgotten easily.

He didn't seem to recognize her, though his focus was mainly on the other Uchiha.

"Mikoto…" He began, with a tone that came across as half-exasperated and half-accustomed to her strange behavior, as if he'd dealt with situations like this several times in the past.

"Oh, Fugaku, no patrol duties today?" She chirped with a warm smile.

'_Is that any way to speak to the clan-head-to-be? Distant cousins or not.'_ Namie wondered, biting her lip as she glanced between them from behind Mikoto, doing her best to remain out of sight for as long as possible.

"No, none today." He replied evenly, setting a hand on his hip, looking like he was resisting the urge to run a hand across his face—or maybe just sit down and cry. "Mikoto," he began again, haltingly, "you do remember the lectures that state there's a protocol for inviting guests into the compound, yes?"

'_Lecture_s?_ As in plural? Just how often was this girl reprimanded?'_ Unconsciously, Namie gripped the hem of Mikoto's blouse. Somehow, she expected trouble.

"But Namie-chan is my friend. That's fine, isn't it? I just want to give something to her—it won't take long at all."

"Well, it's fine…but only after you submit the name for clearance on the visitors list."

This was starting to sound like a prison situation to Namie. They really had strict rules set in place. Even so, Fugaku was being surprisingly gentle with Mikoto. Sasuke's father had always come off as strict and emotionless, but now that picture was being painted over.

Mikoto set her hands on her hips and sighed. "Can't you let it go just this once, Fugaku? I promise I'll follow the rules next time."

His expression seemed to falter upon hearing the words "next time."

Who knew. His future wife was a repeat offender in her youth.

Namie couldn't help but snicker at the revelation, but she instantly realized that was a bad move. The older Uchiha's dark eyes darted instantly to her direction and he all but flinched in recognition.

Maybe her appearance was more memorable than she'd thought. Blondes were somewhat uncommon in Konoha, after all—though most were Yamanakas.

Fugaku's eyes read that he all but wanted to pretend Namie didn't exist because if he acknowledged her it would only agitate the current issue. Before he could ignore her again, however, Namie spoke up smugly, sure to make her voice sound as pompous and childish as possible.

"Hey, you, I remember you!"

His eyebrow twitched and Namie was certain he wanted for all the world to tell her to leave immediately, though he refrained.

"Oh? You've met?" Mikoto mused, glancing from her senior to the small blonde.

"Yep! He was my babysitter once." Said blonde grinned brightly.

"Oh, I see! He's really wonderful with children, did you know, Namie-chan? He looks after all of the younger clan kids, even the ones aside from his little sisters."

Little sisters. No wonder he didn't like her. They were probably little terrors that traumatized him or something. It also explained the way he handled Mikoto. Probably, his younger sisters did pretty much whatever they wanted and he couldn't tame them so he was forced to just tolerate it.

Fugaku's expression turned openly miserable as he ran a hand through his hair and exhaled tiredly. "Fine. I'll look the other way this time, but please remember to follow proper procedures next time, Mikoto."

"Sure thing! I promised, didn't I?"

After that unexpected episode, the tension in the atmosphere eased away and most of the clan members ignored Namie's presence entirely, knowing it would only be temporary.

Mikoto's gift ended up being a small container of _konpeito_ she'd been gifted by one of the boys in Konoha—a reject re-gift. Namie wasn't sure if she should feel insulted or just not think about it and accept the gift at face-value. Of course, this was a token of their trust and the goodwill that Namie would hold up her end of the deal and introducing her to Minato sometime soon. But really, Mikoto seriously viewed her as a kid easily won over by candy.

She would just have to see about following through on the promise, but the free sweets _did_ build Mikoto up slightly in her favor.

After the exchange, Namie was free to leave, and she chose to do so without Mikoto's company, if only to make the trip shorter. The Uchiha girl loved to talk no matter what and had stopped them several times on the way to her home to point out certain buildings and landmarks and provide a small blurb on everything.

By the time she was free to leave, the sun was setting and the air was beginning to chill.

Namie wanted to get home as soon as possible—or at least, out of the Uchiha compound. No one was openly staring at her anymore, mainly because most of the adults had already moved indoors, but she could still feel the eyes every now and then. And a small bit of hostility.

She nearly made it out of the compound intact—nearly, because the moment she stepped towards the front gate, something came flying wildly through the air and ricocheted painfully off of her skull, knocking her into the ground. The candy container slipped from her grasp and tumbled along the ground—thankfully remaining in one piece—though she skinned one of her hands in an attempt to break her fall. A rubber ball lolled innocently nearby.

Shrieks of young children met her ears as she struggled to comprehend her surroundings and blink away the shock, relieved there was no lasting pain aside from the moment of impact. When her sense returned, she leapt to her feet and grit her teeth, swiped up the ball and held it above her head threateningly towards the small group of Uchiha kids of various ages that stood a few feet away.

Four were in a huddle, looking obnoxiously gleeful, while another, the youngest, stood a ways in front of them, hands raised halfway and frozen in shock, expression surprised and fearful like a deer caught in headlights. He was _definitely_ the one who threw a ball at her head. When they all realized she was going to send the ball right back at them without mercy, they whooped and hollered and turned on their heels to dart away from her wrath. Namie wasted no time in hurrying forwards and hurling the ball towards them, hoping to nail one of them in the head as well, but as luck would have it, she missed.

However, the worried-looking one, the offender, managed to stumble and trip over his own feet during his escape attempt, and crashed painfully to the ground with a loud cry. Namie was on him in an instant.

She gripped the collar of his dark shirt and hoisted him onto his feet—she would have liked to dangle him, but for her short height and his size, she wouldn't have succeeded in intimidating him at all because his toes would still touch the ground.

Either way, it seemed he was frightened. "I'm sorry! Sorry, nee-chan, I didn't mean to do it, really! They told me they would let me into the group if I threw it at you!" The young boy cried, sounding close to tears as he shielded his head from possible retaliation.

Namie turned the boy to face her and released his shirt gruffly before crossing her arms and squinting dangerously. "Whaddya mean, brat, you just do whatever others tell you to get their acceptance?" She growled, scowling. "That really hurt!"

"I said sorry!" The boy sobbed, scrubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes before glancing up at her with wide, teary eyes and giving her a good look at his crying face.

And.

The.

World.

_Stopped._

The seconds seemed to tick by painfully slow as she struggled to steady her breathing, struggled to grasp control of her senses. The cool weather, the distant civilian chattering, all drowned beneath the white-noise static that filled her mind.

She'd failed to notice it before in her anger, but there was a very familiar, very iconic pair of goggles set snugly atop the young boy's head, which he'd been forced to push up and out of the way to wipe his tears.

The spiky-haired child registered her shocked expression and behavior as anger, because he backed up and eyed her warily, sniffling. "Don't hit me, nee-chan."

A myriad of emotions whirled through her, catching her up in an internal storm.

Rage. Anger. Hurt. Fear. Pity. Heartache. Confusion. Indignation. Helplessness.

It all stopped.

She was numb.

This child—the catalyst for so many events to come—was here, within her reach, yet she couldn't do a thing about it. Didn't_ know_ what to do. Once again, she was stuck at an impasse, dumbstruck by the curveball dealt by fate.

Mechanically, haltingly, Namie willed herself to move and turned away from the boy to walk towards the fallen _konpeito_ tin. She gathered it up within her hands, fingers stiff, clumsy, held it close to her chest and exited the compound without looking back. Only moving forward.

What were the chances?

Uchiha Obito was here, and very much alive.

* * *

**A/N: **…That break took longer than I thought it would. Seriously. I got caught up watching the 2011 reboot of Hunter x Hunter and_ completely_ fell in love. I'm tempted to start an SI fic for that series too, after I read some of the manga and get myself a little more familiarized, but first things first, my priority is Laterality.

Also this isn't really proofread yet, I just wanted to post it ASAP since it's been a while. I'll fix typos and whatnot later!

I love how some of you dislike Inori because he's actually one of my favorite characters (not to say I agree with what he does, though). Reactions to him are always fun to read whether it's positive or negative. I'm also glad some of you like him, too, but there's such a division! Like there's an anti-Inori club out there or something. Anyway, I've been hinting at some romantic interaction between Kushina and Minato for a while so this chapter actually has it—and writing KushiMina things always makes me so giggly and all warm and fuzzy because they're adorable. Can anyone say OTP? Still, it was a little difficult writing about it from Minato's perspective.

This special long-ish chapter is also my late thank-you to everyone for getting this story into triple digits regarding reviews, faves and follows! Nearly 200 reviews already, I'm so happy! It means a lot to me, really. Knowing people read, follow, fave, and that some take the time to leave comments is just so encouraging.

Next chapter will get the ball rolling again and things are going to get srs, y'all.

Thank you so much for all reads/faves/follows! And reviewers: **kairenayui, Sethera, Vaughn Tyler, coronadomontes, littlemelonatplay, 10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat, Littlebirdd, MythologyGirl, Kasuke. Hagase, Flor, JackFrost14, Nyght elf, Noxy the Proxy, KiyomiShizuru, **and** Counting Sinful Stars**.

Review replies are at the same place as always (kettobase on dreamwidth)

Oh, and to everyone back in school/going back to school soon: be safe, be wise, and study hard, suckers! I graduated from college back in May and I'm officially done with all that trouble (unless I decide to save up money for graduate school someday).


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